The Love Song of Carlos Baerga

In some ways, this is a persona poem.  I feel especially loved these days, but in thinking about Carlos Baerga - a baseball player who was a fine hitter until he suddenly lost his swing - I thought of a person who has lost someone's love and how that feels.

                                                     The Love Song of Carlos Baerga


                                             We learn little from what comes too easily.
                                             The natural hitters struggle the most
                                             when they lose their swing. They never studied
                                             batting – it was just something they always
                                             did well. When the magic leaves them they can’t
                                             re-learn what they were born knowing, so they
                                             go through the motions, the little rituals –
                                             tapping home plate with their bats, rolling
                                             their heads, tugging at their shirts – hoping
                                             to stumble on the spell that will call their talent
                                             back to them, the same way I set the table,
                                             take out the garbage, say “Good Morning” while
                                             I wait for you to love me again
                                             in a way that once seemed as easy as breathing.

Note to foreign readers or non-baseball fans:  In baseball, batters are known for the number of physical rituals they go through while getting ready to try to hit the next ball thrown by the pitcher.