While dutifully reading an uninteresting (to me) essay for my Understanding Writing class, I found this lovely poem at the very end:
To My Colleagues in the Field
And when that certain grounder
skips blur-white
across clipped June grass
and I move quickly but fumble it
the ball popping into the air before my eyes
I need you moving to cover second
timing my work while the ball's between us
ready to take my toss
tap the bag in stride
and wheel your own true throw to first
in time
you and I will teach the world
to collaborate
Tom Romano
The University of New Hampshire
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