It struck me as particularly poignant that legendary Phillies broadcaster Harry Kalas passed away today during poetry month. So I thought I’d throw in a few words towards that cause.

Afternoon Baseball On The Radio

In the bright of a hot afternoon
Ice swirls in glasses
breezes of imagination
in waves of gently humming radio

[...and the home of the brave]

opening views of a perfect outfield

the planting
of a batter’s spikes
into the earth

the cadence of warm words

[Working from the stretch. Here comes the wind-up]

I can see the stitching

of a baseball drifting

then shattered
by the bat crack

[Well hit into deep left-center field]

into the blue
crowds rising
holding a moment

[Home run!]

to the cascade of cheers
The claps of dust and chalk
escaping from each step on a base

backyard clouds
pass swaying trees
sitting back in a lawn chair
a cool sip

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