Baseball Goes Foul
Bill ate his dinner of macaroni
by Theresa Ann Moore
all alone in a darkened dining room.
Piles of old newspapers surround,
Thoughts are misplaced in the clutter.
A wobbly walker is his only companion
a misguided intruder shatters idleness.
Thumps maneuver around random confusion…
distressing broken glass crackles underfoot.
Shaky nicotine fingers unlatch the double bolt.
Brightness of summer reveals green and gray,
A dirt diamond is etched into a grassy vacant lot,
adjacent to an abandoned storefront with graffiti.
Andy trembles with his bat in hand,
thawing and melting in the direction of an apology.
'Sorry, I broke your window, it was and accident,
a homerun ball curved and went foul, '
With sad eyes, Andy asked if he can borrow Bill’s phone,
A one-sided conversation brought his father to the door.
Within hours, Metro Hardware prepared a transparent pane.
Andy and his father restored order and filled the empty frame.
The threesome sits drinking sweet hospitality ice tea,
Admiring the clear, red glow of the setting sun.
'Just like new, ' Bill says, with an appreciative nod.
'Here’s your baseball Andy, you’ll need it tomorrow.'