Right Field
Richard Wilson
6-24-09
I was sent there by coaches of teams I barley made.
“You play right field,” they’d say
when all the other spots were filled.
I didn’t let them see the empty sadness I carried
as I trotted slowly to that place where I was not
expected to be good. Arriving, I would turn around
and watch the game from there. I didn’t want the
ball to come. I didn’t want the error.
There I stood, my little glove I pounded with my fist
and cheered my pitcher on with faint hurrahs that no
one heard but me. Right field was an empty, lonely
place so far from everything a young kid dreams of.
I waited there impatiently for inning ending plays,
so I could run and be part of what I felt so separate from:
To sit amongst the players and feel like I was one.
To maybe get a walk or even hit the ball and run
the bases round and once in every while, come home.
Searchlight’s On
Richard Wilson
A woman alone in the car behind drives up.
I see the cut of her hair in my rearview mirror.
Searchlight’s on.
The new voice on the phone is pleasing.
A friend suggested she call.
Searchlight’s on.
A walk around the lake.
She stops to pet my friendly dog with a little smile for me.
Is she the next illusion filled with sweet perfection,
adorned with breasts I could fall into?
A woman sells me paint, though overweight,
her face is soft, her gentleness creates a thought.
Searchlight’s on.
Yesterday my elder neighbor got her mail as I was
‘bout to do the same. We talked a bit; it’s rare we do.
Yet even then my instinct knew
my searchlight still was on and working well.
The Lonely Child and God
Richard Wilson
When I was young, God was up there,
somewhere, distantly in charge.
He was also stuck in stories told
of rainy days that wouldn’t stop and
seas of red that killed those bad Egyptians.
His soon, this Jesus, had a lamb upon his shoulders
in a picture in the basement of the Presbyterian Church.
I went to church ‘cause it was good and
God was definitely that!
It was important to be good
and so by God, I was!
Though, death was not around and pain was
barely mentioned, life was unexplained. There
was no talk of mystery until my father, dying,
lifted head of gray and asked me this:
“How can God who made the Universe love me?”
It was the first time we had ever talked of anything like that.
Blameless
Richard Wilson
It wasn’t all because of them, you know.
I found my way to separateness
because it was the only road to travel
and not lose the one thing I could never lose,
the inner me that seemed so far away from what
the others were and wanted.
How could I blame loving parents
who themselves, were hidden somewhere
deep behind their untold past, afraid to be afraid.
Good Time Memories
Richard Wilson
The play was thirty eight,
the 3 back through the 8 hole
and the 3 was me in Bagley, Minnesota.
I was fifteen, on the B team, didn’t start, but played.
I took the hand off from the quarterback and ran
behind the pulling guard for seven, count ‘em, seven yards
and man, do I remember that!
It was good and so was I…for a moment in time.
That same year on the court in the preliminary game
we were playing Blackduck.
My warm up shots were going in, and
for the only time in my life, I started, me,
the little guy at guard and ended up with seven points
and man, do I remember that!
It was good and so was I…for a moment in time.
That summer, on a really windy day
in a little town called, Argile,
I hit two doubles over second base
I felt like I belonged that day to
the world of men and boys
Yes, I do remember that!
It was good and so was I…for a moment in time.
Hunger Satisfied
Richard Wilson
The object of my sensing is smooth of face
and happily a woman. Kindness lives within her eyes.
She wakes a empty part of me, a softness I had missed.
Her face reflects graceful understanding.
Within those precious moments when her
loveliness appears, I put all else aside and
know I’m in the presence of a dream.
Come with Me Down into the Deep
Richard Wilson
Come with me down into the deep.
I’d like to show you where the words don’t go.
It’s scary at first.
No one can know I go there.
But will you come? Please!
There’s someone I want you to meet.