The Shortstop

Posted on September 18, 2015

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THE SHORTSTOP

His glove, like him, pliant, oiled,

shows worn patches. But all that’s past fades

into illusive speculation–intellectual dross–

when halfway to the outfield fence he scoops

the relay, spins and feels the ball go hard and straight

right at the catcher’s glove. His selfhood glows:

No thrill to match the pure elation of a perfect throw.

A Perfect Throw, by Robert Joe Stout. Aldrich Press (http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Throw-Robert-Joe-Stout)

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Posted in: Poetry