The first out was routine, A grounder had occurred. A force at second base, The runners, first and third, "The phenom" now prepared To get a double-play, The catcher wagged a "two", A curve ball underway, The batter should have guessed That heat would not be sent, But though his timing's off, Trajectory was bent, The bat just clipped the ball, And fouled high into stands. So now the phenom thought, A fastball he'd command. Shook off the catcher's sign, One finger down and right, The phenom took a breath And threw with all his might, The ball flew fast inside, Made hitter's pull commit, He weakly tagged the ball Into the shortstop's mitt, Who turned and made the toss To second baseman's west, Avoiding runner's track, Collision was the quest, The throw went on to first, A laser beam was caught, The double-play complete, A win the phenom sought. The pastime might forget The pitch that made the day But not the crafty phenom Who filed it away.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
February 2021
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