by Patrick Hogan
Steve Cohen sighing
How can this be happening
Showalter burns sage
Box Lunch
by Wayne F. Burke
Eager to get to the ballfield
in the morning
to play
baseball, what I lived for
1964,
I followed the Major League scores,
batting averages, and standings;
the rest of the world no more
to me then
than a nightly news show
like Vietnam helicopter
womp womp,
machine gun rat-tat-tat;
I fed on
daily box scores in the newspaper
each breakfast
and left the ballfield only
to return home
for a meal
and on days it rained
I read books about baseball…
A guy my uncle knew, who
played for the local high school, had
played two years with the NY Yankees.
Kiss
by Van
I remember rounding third once as if
all of America’s promise rode on my legs
There was a big commotion,
catcher, pitcher, gloves and a ball
were waiting for my pale legs.
I slid as slick as cupid’s bow
and scored lady luck’s run.
No kiss was so sweet.
An Immortal’s Mortality
By Elliot Harris
There is a harsh reality:
No one escapes mortality.
Even if you were a baseball great,
You still cannot avoid such a fate.
Hall of Fame pitcher Tom Seaver died,
And some fans of his likely cried.
Mortality and thoughts of Tom Seaver
Can turn us inward and into a griever.
A baseball immortal, that’s for sure
With a delivery that was so pure.
And yet with Death in the batter’s box
Not even the great ones can outfox.
No curve nor changeup nor blazing fastball
Has a chance against the swing of Death’s call.
All that is left on the great pitcher’s mound
Are the marvelous memories and joy unbound.
The Miracle Mets of long ago
Don’t seem so ancient to some of us, though
Who used to watch him and them play
When we were all young back in the day.
After Tom Seaver has been laid to rest
He still will remain among baseball’s best.
Still too will remain the human fragility:
We all will strike out against mortality.
(Editor’s Error: First submitted Sept. 3, 2020. RIP Tom Seaver)
Diving Stop
by R. Gerry Fabian
Nothing
can equally
cause
intense elation
or
dismal disappointment
as that
hard hit ground ball
to the middle left
of the infield
with a runner on first
and only one
out.
R. Gerry Fabian is the author of three novels and four books of poetry. His latest book of poems, Ball On The Mound, is a collection of original baseball poems, available at Amazon.