I see dust being kicked up as someone plows the varsity baseball diamond
I hear the bell ringing in the high school
I smell fresh cut grass
I taste the morning sunlight warming my skin
I touch my plastic, mechanical pencil while writing this poem
I feel the pollen flying through the air
I wonder when summer will get here so it’ll be toasty
I wish I could be playing on the field in front of me
I hope I’ll be able to fill the blank page in front of me
I am me