She’ll be in the 5th row, along the first base line,
Eating popcorn on a warm spring night.
And they’ll be a moment when she stops
With the crack of a bat and watches the arc
Of the white ball sail off into the sky as if
It really could fly forever.
And a spring wind whispers,
Don’t let another moment slip away.
He’ll be in the dugout.
Jittery, electric trying so hard to just look bored and cool.
When it’s time, he reaches down.
The polished smooth shining handle of the bat,
Shuts out all sound.
Then the calm.
Like endless green fields waving in the shimmering winds.
And a spring wind whispers
Don’t let another moment slip away.
And at the top of the stands. The old man.
More like a shadow. Look hard or you will miss him.
Watching every inching shift and flow of every player in the field.
Sifting it through the seasons past, thinking
I would not trade a second
For the loving of the game.
Now I will watch.
And I will forever be down there on that field
But he still feels every stinging shot whomped over to third base,
Still sets his feet and rockets it to first.
He’s out!
Today right now this second
Is where it starts again.
And a spring wind whispers
Don’t let another moment slip away.
So she munches on that popcorn.
Watches him do his cool guy stroll to the plate
Wonders with her shining smile of spring
Just where this will go.
Wonders what her memories will be.
He squares off and faces down the pitcher.
The old man remembers it all
And keeps watch.
A green fields of coming summer moment,
Renewed.
Set against a raging, broken world that no one has forgotten.
The terror and torn dreams like shattered glass.
That bubble of fear as real as slashing street knife sirens.
But there is also this
Green fields of summer coming moment.
So, she smiles and tastes the salt in that popcorn.
He concentrates. Gets ready to swing.
And the old man watching knows
The spring wind whispering,
Don’t let another moment slip away.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFPobQ-ewiA]