Tuesday, October 04, 2005


The drama in nine acts
plays again, on stages
from Fenway to barrio streets.

Each performance differs:
each actor finds his lines
written in the red stitching

of a fast ball conversation.
Give me the signs, again,
and I’ll remember summer.

I’ll remember the nights,
the high flies swarming up
into webs of light;

I’ll return to the crowded
bleachers, lukewarm beer,
and long forgotten rookies

of every hot afternoon.
The play’s the thing, you know;
it always has been.

Stephen Brooke ©2005

Well, the playoffs are here and Steve's muse turns toward baseball -- the only team sport to which I pay any attention. I like the dramatic element of the game; it holds my interest because I can actually see the individuals interacting.

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