Going to a Game with You
is even more fun than going to L.A.
to see my words in her mouth
or following your prelude & hankering for an interlude
at a ballpark in Toronto New York San Francisco
or Boston where Cousin Bip’s crazy mom
might take us to dinner & a miracle play
where the blue of your shirt would blond up your smile
so I liked looking at it and you
liked baseball in a smoke-ridden nightclub
in such a way that the windows roll down
& curves blow through my head
toolin’ the prairie on a high summer night
singing this field forever.
Through concrete
to the green
of every ballpark we approach
from the dark to the day
we drive
somewhere
it’s always a game.
And we are not cheated of experience or hope
as we trace by starlight the roads where we played in the sun.
And we are not cheated of anything to come
for I can sing of it & you haunt the song.
© 1996 Elinor Nauen