Poems by Terese Karmel, presented on June 2, 2016 at the annual Cooperstown Symposium on Baseball and American Culture in Cooperstown, N.Y.

1. Roughs
in the
Diamond
A few poems
by Terese
Karmel

2. Last Laugh
That swell-headed Teddy with his whisk broom ‘stache -
like the ump’s home plate brush -
dissed my boy at Nats Park
didn’t like his Mets shirt
too much for the hero of San Juan Hill.
This boy, who always made his own way,
laughed that hot July afternoon
as that grinning mascot’s red and white arm
shoved him aside.
That day, his team took a beating from that Harper-Homer guy
who never speaks softly but carries a big stick.
This Queens-loyal fan
who suffered years of abuse from those in the other borough,
kept the faith through October 2016.
Hey, Teddy:
How do you like dem Citifield Apples?

4. THREE HAIKU
Down-poor
The saddest words
sung in the rain:
“No Game Today.”
Pumpkins
I like them white w/ red stitches
Scary – if they’re hurled 90 mph
And you’re waving a twig at them.
Winter meetings at the campus café
Me ‘n’ Larry ‘n’ Steve
Those two, O’s two
Me: Nats bats.

5. Yankee Stadium – Nov. 4 2009
She was ever the New Yorker—
The magazine, her accent still
hanging
on despite a move south to another city
with a team with no shame.
A witness to 26 championships,
she grinned at her rented team’s failures.
And even as her life began to ebb.
she’d look up through some ancient mist
to ask me: “How are my Yankees doing?”
That mist deepened each year
until finally her light went out
on a January DC day so balmy they coulda’ played ball.
And I was grateful she didn’t have to hear
“Nothin’ Ma to cheer about” ever again.
Two years later, the Yankees rose up.
If there’s a baseball God –
And I believe there is –
He helped explode that ball off Matsui’s bat
over the right field wall
emblazoned with spikey Japanese letters,
like snowflakes,
towards a rising sun,
where she will greet it
as it sails to heaven.