Self-Care at the Baseball Diamond

for May 2020
Emily Perez

Today we shouted 
in the baseball diamond
because we could.

Today we showed the sun
our skin. Today we loosed
the air from these four walls,


their shame and shine. Inside
we lick each other’s spoons
and muss each other’s

covers in the morning
and the night. Scrape toothpaste
spit from sinks. Spill drinks

and sugar on the floor. We yell
we’ve had enough. We yell
enough when we have yelled

enough. Today we took our mess
into the light to let it air,
comingled all our breath

beyond the door, allowed
our loud and more.


Overheard

Emily Perez

sap-stick
feather-frond
prickle-spindle

shadow-step
trunk-tower
silenceofthe

sway-branched
needle-leafed
light-locked

root-route
water-wending
xylem-highway

earth-crunch
dis-integration
moss-matter

rhizomes-rending
tubules-tendering
wishwishwish

How do trees sing
each other?
Over-under