Saturday, January 17, 2026

The Line Drive

 

The crack of the bat was like a sonic boom

The crowd in the bleachers covered their ears

The baseball cleared the back fence with ease

It flew out beyond the last porch light

Then across the city line

With lightning speed, it traveled up

Through the clouds

Then into the bleakness of space

Leaving the moon in its wake

The small, white orb fled beyond Saturn

Just missing the rings

It kept going without remorse

Or memory

Passing beyond light itself

Only to come back around

Landing just out of bounds.


Strike two.

 

 

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