Baseball holds memories
of many things.
Its fields of diamond
smell of grass green.
White lines border,
holding childhood dreams.
Old men nostalgic
a child’s eyes wide.
Recalling young legs
once strong and lean.
Memories stirring,
the batter steps in.
Just one hit needed
bringing fans to their feet.
The catcher’s stance tense,
the pitcher throws heat.
Arms extend, bat glides  
It is a sweet swing.
Swiftly he strides
his eyes lift as he leaves.
The ball rises quickly;
a hush fills the stands.
The ball leaves the park,
their heads in their hands.

The crowd breaths
as misery sets in,

Yet, one man is left smiling,
his team gets the win.