by Mark J. Mitchell
Settling in. Scorecard out. Sun coats the stands
like butter on popcorn. The catcher snaps
a fastball. Strike. Welcome to a game
of light. Two beer guy passes. Don’t write names,
just numbers. Ground ball through the right. Sliced slap—
infield fly rule called. It’s going to land
in leather. Catcher runs out, tries to tame
the phenom on the mound. Nods, and then slaps
his butt. Quick strike. Then he tests out the same
pitch. Bat crack. Ball to pocket. Fast hands.
Short to second. That veteran just stands
on the bag. Using his crack wrist, he snaps
the throw to first. Inning ends. A new game.
Mark J. Mitchell is a die-hard Giants fan. His latest book is Roshi, San Francisco (Norfolk Press). Other baseball related poems can be found in the anthologies Line Drives and Good Poems, American Places.