June Juggernaut

Here are two end-of-the-month poems:

June Juggernaut
Even as she swept tears aside
She wondered how he felt inside
A juggernaut in the frame
A contender of the game

It was the last Wednesday of June
And as the sun became the moon
She learned to move and lose
Seated sadly and miserably to muse

To lean on him was to repose
But seeing him defeat his foes
Was substantially an indefinite node
How could this contrast fairly bode

He did not promise or portend
But with his laugh she did pretend
What the end of June surely meant
Even as he sank the shots he sent



The Baseball Card
There inside my closest drawer
Appears a face I knew before
When summer ways were lazy days
And dreams were pinstriped blues and grays
In a binder stamped with fun
Rests the card I consider the one
It isn’t glossy, it doesn’t glint
But to me, the condition is mint
He’s noticeably noble and perpetually new
In baseball lore, he’s known simply as “Lou”
The splendor navy cap and sad-eyed face
Distinguish his gift and glorious grace
Tucked away and stored in my heart
Is someone playing Lou’s same part
The picture is clear in my mind
He is of the naturally athletic, humble kind