Sun going down
Lighting the purple mountains
Soaring behind Dodger Stadium
Beautiful enough to take your eyes off the game
For a moment.
Crack of the bat
A clean clear sound pulls your eye back.
Rising, I trip over the stranger’s legs as he rises, too
Trying to catch the ball whipping through the air, a cannonball
Shot straight at our heads
I go down hard, the cement cool on my hands
Twisting my neck to see if he’d get it.
He tips dips reaches and stretches
But I hear the thwack of a catcher’s mitt
catching that ball
As I rise
The little kid behind us
Maybe ten, face glowing, teeth flashing white,
Holds the catch aloft
The crowd roars approval.