A Dugout Among the Stars

I closed my eyes and took my breath,
and crossed my arms across my chest.
My darkest silence, at peace and rest.

Yet, the noise of cleats and the smell of chew,
were all familiar things I knew.
Why this quiet dream of mine,
or is it final, this state of mind?

I neither move, nor do I speak,
While my curiosity is at its peak.

But wait, there’s voices near,
voices that I can hardly hear.
Louder and louder, with clearer speak,
I know those voice, clear but weak.

It’s men I’ve know from yesterday,
men of grace and agile play.
Men I knew of honor when,
our team was down by even ten.

I can see them now, but faintly though,
greying shadows moving slow.
And glimpses giving way to sight,
I know these guys, I know the light.

I know this place, of green and brown,
I know this place, the lines and mound.
I know this place of dugout’s grey,
I remember well of this place I say.

The smells all come rushing back,
of leather, chew and lumber bats.
My hands and palm, my arms straight down,
on the edge of a bench as I look around.

I’ve made! I’ve made! My eternal prize,
all those years … with tears in my eyes.
I can hardly breath, tightest in my chest,
as I grasp the moment of my final rest.

But wait, that gentle voice I also know,
and the shaking of my body, ever so slow.
The visions that once enthraled me now,
and even the roaring of the crowds.

That focus, that picture, that I had so nice,
are but fuzzy streaks in the light.

“Wake up my dear” she said so light,
“you don’t want to nap all day and night!”
“The lawn needs mowing, there’s shopping too”,
“we’re out of milk and even shampoo.”

Coach B.