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Rated: E · Poetry · Sports · #1724575
A poem about baseball, inspired by Morris Kantor's "Baseball at Night".
I am the ninth
I see the fielders slap their gloves
I hear the cuss of the batter who strikes out
I touch the solid plastic seat in front of me
I taste the sweet night air
I am the ninth
I wonder how fast that pitch was
I wish I was he
I feel the electricity in the air
I understand how they feel
I remember the feeling so well
I imagine the taste of victory to follow
I am the ninth
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