Writing At A Ball Game Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Tiers of seats filled with people, some at dizzying
heights.
All gathered to watch some men run around a field,
touching three bases.
Most of the stadium is empty, just the die-hard
fans are hanging in.
Not being one of them I sit here writing poetry -
the only enjoyment that I'm getting from being here.
Except the occasional conversation with co-workers
pausing to visit.

(8: 41 p.m. - 9/13/00)