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Ed Markowski

City Limits

On October 10th 2008
three pheasants fell
from an empty sky
above an empty city
in an empty field
where the ballpark
once stood shook
rocked rattled rang
erupted and ignited
so many dreams that
blazed in the burning
cold on every January
night as the scream and
squeal of factory whistles
was silenced by the swift
crack of a Kaline rifle shot
and the avalanche of voices
Al's bullet set in motion
cascading from Michigan and
Trumbull clear across the
Mackinaw Bridge then into
the blue of Lake Superior
sewn inside a moment when
becoming a boy of summer
was as sure a thing as syrup
dripping down a tower of
flapjacks and the pearly gates
were opened closed manned
and managed by a fat beer
scented cigar wagging peanut
vendor named Saint Gus 440
feet from home plate and just
         about an inch
     the centerfield fence

©2011 by Ed Markowski

Ed Markowski lives and writes in Auburn Hills, Michigan. His poetry and short stories have been published both nationally and internationally.

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