Offseason
by David "Horrible" Simpson
Staring passed me
eyes dark above his glove
he nods
and the world starts
-- as I wait
Shifting his stance
cleats soft over rubber
he rocks
and the world floats
-- as I wait
Lifting his leg
hands tight within leather
he holds
and the world leans
-- as I wait
Drawing apart
the ball swept behind him
he drives
and the world opens
-- as I wait
Spinning in air
moments slowed in my mind
I fire
and the world cracks
-- as I wake
