It’s the nostalgia
of spring time
every spring our team
would reawaken from our slumber
and drive to the ball fields
playing our hearts out
bleeding a little,
listening to coaches and parents
swear at the umpires,
cheering and yelling
and pitches in the dirt.

“down down down”
as the play to third would come down to an inch
to the microscopic eye
and the pounds of dust
i have consumed over my lifetime
could fill hundreds of baseball fields

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