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Jul 2019
A pine tarred bat,  
that greets a frayed and soiled baseball.
Grass stained shortstop,
he leaps to pilfer your grin.
Anticipation from a crowd,
chants of lets go home team,
that echo through the sultry summer eve.
Bottom of the ninth, two outs and one run down,
it's now up to you to battle...........
to win.
Written by
The Concrete Poet  M
(M)   
177
 
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