Love, I have
for the ivy – W
flags arms waving home –
flashes tomorrow’s
third base slides; today –
scores of rally cap
wishers, tired of
runners stranded
with losses, chanting
wait till next
year – when finally,
the wind carried,
I caught the future … walk
off homers – glimpsing our
North Side eyes toasting
Trophy Chicago – skies; fire
works, again; waiting
for the pitch … breathe
in between bottom of the
9th inning – biting sleeves
our hearts at bat, breaths held
behind the plate as catcher
unmasks our save, blown;
candle, birthday wish – relive
me closer, uncork the hit –
bring us clear all bases,
scoring belief – champagne’s
our World Series shadow
forecasts – Wrigley
field’s our destiny will
reign.