There's a stone
in my pocket
and a storm
on my lips
great field voices
of cane and wheat
songs from the
Southern people
inside me
equinox and
solstice folk
deep inside
the Earth
Deep inside
my bones
growling for
that summer wind
an air to
ride the
back of
sliding into home.
baseball metaphors are metaphors for life... enjoyed this, and your postings tonight. welcome, Michael! ~~sjg
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love the poem, your love of the game and season are so evident herein. Thanks.