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poetry by j matthew waters

in the front row behind home plate


she’s not watching the game
cold beer in her glove hand
new beau on her left
small device streaming
atop crossed knee


he’s keeping score in his head
far behind on the conversation
hesitating how to record
a balk or the stealing of first base

there is mass exhilaration
when the whole place erupts
by way of a grand salami
suddenly they find themselves
deep in the crosshairs





august two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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2 thoughts on “in the front row behind home plate

  1. what a picture you’ve painted here

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