This Field is Different Now


This Field Is Different Now

By: Jenna Hoffman

This field is different now.

Tire tracks pave paths

as thin as bullets

Through the sun-dried, yellow grass.

The overgrown weeds

littering the baseball diamond

Cover the memories

of what had happened here




This field is different now.

The weathered wooden bench

threatens to crack at any moment.

A lifetime of fear

and anger

push at its stretching seams.

The iron wind

whips through that dead grass

and hushed voices

hide behind its harsh rustling.

This field is different now.

The steel posts lining the diamond

feel more like a cage.

Nobody was safe here

in this cemetery of a field.

Nobody could change his actions that day.

Nobody could repair what he had done.

The suffocating air will never thin here.

This field is different now.