My Favorite Park

Baaseball Umpire by KeithJJ on Pixabay

My favorite park is a summer park
That smells of hot concrete
Until you get inside. Then it smells like
Mown grass, clean sunshine, and fresh popcorn.

My ears ring to sweet song of
As it erupts from the undergrowth
Of caps and pennants.

In the wide field bounded by
Precise lines of white chalk,
Flesh slaps hide and the crack of wood
Sets  the world into fluid motion.

The lovely sundown hours arrange
Themselves in tops and bottoms,
We stretch after seven and finish at nine.
Though not every night.

Sometimes, before it all goes dark and quiet
And we head home to dream of Game Sevens
We look up toward the billion stars
And watch some fireworks.

Today’s poem was inspired by an afternoon Mets game on the radio and my long-time love for baseball.

(Photo Credit: KeithJJ on Pixabay)