baseball poem

Wednesday, 17 December 2008 16:51

frozen cleat marks
behind the backstop
bare branches creaking
in the cold winter wind
the mound stands naked
within an infield
clothed in white
snow on the bleachers
where fans will sit again
when spring comes
dreams thaw
and the boys play
on grass grown anew

 

60 days until pitchers and catchers report for spring training.

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