The Base Stealer Poem by Robert Francis
The Base Stealer
Poised between going on and back, pulled
Both ways taut like a tightrope-walker,
Fingertips pointing the opposites,
Now bouncing tiptoe like a dropped ball
Or a kid skipping rope, come on, come on,
Running a scattering of steps sidewise,
How he teeters, skitters, tingles, teases,
Taunts them, hovers like an ecstatic bird,
He's only flirting, crowd him, crowd him,
Delicate, delicate, delicate, delicate—now!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/25/2026 7:12:19 PM # rel_20261022T080914Z_e3039d4
What a beautiful, evocative rendering of the plight of the baseball player leading off, tempting, teasing, caught in that exhilarating moment during a game that hangs in the air, hoping to steal a base and advance his team's hopes of victory. It rolls it all up and gets my heart beating, just like the real thing. Masterful.
what
Agreed good sir! I truly love this poem