Garden Walls
Winter Diamonds
Turning the corner toward the field, the coach found the diamond populated by frozen players playing a pickup game. Snowmen. Silent sentinels, left by the elementary kids at recess play. In the thin winter sunlight they would glisten with joy – hats added to their snow-bald heads and mitts to warm the twigs – every bit the perfect soldiers of merriment. Tonight, as he ambled among them, they glowed in a pagan moonlight vigil over the diamond.
The coach picked up a mitten that had fallen off, replacing it carefully on the stiff limb of the pitcher. In the twilight there was no glittering from the blanched body, or winks from the stone eyes. They only cast long shadows with unblinking stares.
The coach shivered. Turning his back on the diamond, and continued his walk toward the parking lot and the forest beyond.
