Boy With a Baseball Glove
by Paul Goodman

See now the beauty with the glove
and hands on’s hips and head held high
arrests me, to be in love
when on an easy way was I.

In Eire would the same
be standing with a fish
and canvas clothes and legs astride upon
the landing
and make the Irish poet pause.

Each time to pleasure had with ease
since won, I go without a care,
a Messenger from overseas appears and arrests me there.