First Base Poem by Frank Bana

First Base



Shower with a touch of gel
Shaving with the weather girl
Felons and stock market news
Coffee brew with cinnamon
E-checking on the mails
Numbers of the suffering
The memories and darkness
Questions of the mysteries
My legs are weak and ache some days
Most days my legs are strong
For life’s burgeoning of loss
The freight on every train
Talk of shoes and real estate
Disneyworld ways of escape
Such torments don’t distract me
I am writing for the cause
For the justice and the love
Sign-off from the 13th floor
And maybe from the one above

I climb this hillside every day
Hopeful and anxious as I sing
To reach first base, the very place
Where work for children may begin.

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