It comes out of nowhere,
A high-flying foul ball arching down,
After being stuck in the sky too long.
My favorite day, like New Year’s Day
.
Trudging through my day to day,
and all there is to do.
Taking calls,
weaving through traffic,
channel surfing.
Then the radio catches Spring, unexpected.
The crack of the bat,
the snap of the glove,
the cadence of the broadcast booth’s calm and steady.
The laughter, murmur and roar of the crowd,
Beer here, get your peanuts.
The scent of hotdogs boils up through the radiator,
Popcorn fills the sky.
My hands stuck to the wheel with pine tar.
The dark of winter lifting.
The day is a little brighter.
The sun is a little warmer.
Baseball is back.