Pittsburgh Pirates

Paul Ruby

You are the dew on the morning grass

and the burning wheel of the sun.

Billy Collins

You are the morning dew on the outfield grass

and the burning rollers of the hot dog machine.

You are the bun warmer's glow

and in another poem you'd be the wine in the crystal goblet

but this is Pittsburgh and we are at a game

so I'm the frosty Iron City in the polystyrene cup.

Let's just say I'm the hiss of the curve ball

and you, its slap in the catcher's mitt.

Want to be the chew bulge in the pitcher's cheek?

I thought not.

You are the tobacco juice on the pitcher's chin

and I, just the stain on his thigh.

A quick glance at the stats show

you're the crack of the bat

so you step into the box

to wrap your arms around one

that's high and tight.

You're the ball's whistle over left field wall.