A Poem for Tuesday

Colin and I are going to the ballgame in case I don't get a chance to talk to you tomorrow.  I'm not opposed to professional sports, I just don't really follow them.  As you know, my second life motto (the first being "at least I know I'm crazy") is "Fake it 'til you make it," or "It's all in looking the part."  I have a brand new Twins t-shirt at the ready and I know all the words to "Take me out to the ballgame."  I should be able to blend in at least.

In salute to our worthy opponent tomorrow, here is a poem about Yankee great Babe Ruth. (And, yes, I do know he no longer plays for them.)

The Babe
Anonymous


Jovial Giant squashed between
Greatness and an empty childhood;
Juxtaposed in time and play.


Mirthmaker,
Charmer,
Crowd-pleaser,
Lover,
King.


A crown of gold
A golden crown
A golden statue
A statue of gold.


We
Toast you with gauntlets of gold
And crown you with our passion.
We
Celebrate your proud head
Tipped upward and framed by a golden sun.
We
Chill in your stretching shadow
Which blocks the sun.


Can you remember
All the autographs inked in hysteria?
Or
The pennants
Nailed
On flagpoles atop the stadium roof?
Nailed
By the bludgeoning power of your power.


The wind makes those flags
Dance in the sky,
And their sound is the sound
Of seagulls-
Returning home to dine.