Scoreless Tie

        by Marc Pollitt

A shaken-off sign;
nobody on base, two out,
bottom of the ninth.

The batter steps back,
adjusts his helmet, gazes
at the outfield fence.

Cleats dig like badgers'
claws into the batter's box;
he extends his bat.

The crowd is silent;
forty thousand hold one breath,
wishing miracles.

Thirty-six ounces
of ash greet a five ounce ball
with murderous force.

In deep left center
the veteran outfielder
feels the wall; he leaps.

 

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©2001 by Marc Pollitt, all rights reserved