Way Too Cold For Snowcones

Way Too Cold For Snowcones, originally uploaded by gawdessness.

baseball featured in my childhood
summer weeks at my grandmother's
a small town in North Ontariou
revolved around fast pitch
one of my uncles was an umpire
(his eyesight was good)
another a pitcher
(not a belly itcher)

and I loved to play
I had my own bat, ball and glove
not a great catcher but I could usually pitch
maybe because I figured I should be able
to
because of my lineage
my uncle, the pitcher, was GOOD
probably better than many
I think there was talk of him
maybe moving in to a different league
but I don't think he wanted to move
anywhere that wasn't where he already was -
anyway-
my bat was good too
and although I couldn't always figure out where the ball was
and I swung a lot without connecting
when I did hit, I HIT it Hard
and far
once I threw that bat
at another kid
but not during a game
he was an obnoxious, grabby 11 year old
hands touching me where they shouldn't
even if he had asked permission first
and my 12 year old outrage
already fanned by my body
betraying me and taking away the shape
i knew and leaving behind shapes I
didn't think I wanted
made that club of wood fly
hard after him
as he took to his heels
to flee my shrieks of anger
-now I am happy that his running start meant I didn't hit him out of the park
but then, I was not so generous,

all of this in my mind last night
as I crouched under a blanket
(and a togue, and a hoody!)
huddled next the rest of my family
June, where I live is not always a temperate affair
and I was astonished to see
that unlike the rest of the hardy souls
in smatterings throughout the park
one brave boy walked past
with a bright red and blue snowcone
probably the only one they sold that night