some prefer baseball

some prefer baseball
don’t ask me why
slow, boring, nothing new
but October redeems the national game
and I watch each pitch with concentration, like a watchmaker hunched over his tools

baseball in October is our annual funeral;
spring training, the all-star break, the dog days of summer
and suddenly, autumn’s nightly chill; players in long sleeves and steaming breath

it’s 90 feet from base to base; I start on third and take weary steps towards home. I’m not yet halfway home, unless I get careless

I know what awaits me


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