Fiction   Essays   Poetry  The Ten On Baseball Chapbooks In Memory





Michael Ceraolo






The Base-Stealer Reprised


Just like in Robert Francis' poem
he was dancing back and forth on the tightrope.
though this time the scene was off third base
The pitcher looked right at him:
no surreptitious peeking over the shoulder,
arrogant in his contempt for him
at the same time oblivious of the possibilities,
winding up on every pitch
                                     And,
finally having his windup well-timed,
the base-stealer pulls the remotest possibility out of thin air,
taking off for home with two strikes on the batter
The pitcher catches sight of him in the corner of his eye,
and the information is too much to process;
having only to throw a strike he flubs up
and the base-stealer slides home safely
on the called ball
Composure having deserted him when most needed
the batter hits a home-run on the next pitch,
another run scores in the inning
And the game is won and lost right there



©2005 by Michael Ceraolo


Michael Ceraolo is a fortysomething civil servant/poet trying to overcome a middle class upbringing. Has had numerous poems published in numerous publications, and is also the author of the forthcoming book-length poem Euclid Creek: A Journey (Deep Cleveland Press).


  Home Contributors Past Issues Search   Links  Guidelines About Us


Subscribe to the Slow Trains newsletter

Advertisement
468C

Advertisement