Baseball Dreams
The one-armed soldier has removed his prosthesis
and rose out of bed to greet the morning fog
He stares at the mirror until an arm appears.
Behind the screen, a smooth curveball dances
but he puts his own interpretation on the scene.
A catcher’s glove, two arab boys, and a green grenade
inhale his suspicion of sliding fastballs in haze
fogging the mirror between him and home plate.
But he doesn’t worry, or at least not much:
he still hears the crowd’s loud roar.
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