home run

you take a hard
swing
and miss.
the bat ripples
against
the summer
air. heat rising
against the green
acres of oufield.
you can see
the fence from
home plate. the arc of
seats with sleepy
fans  waiting, wanting
something to
happen.
the next pitch comes
and your hips
turn, your
shoulders tighten,
your eyes narrow
as your heart
triples its beat.
you swing, extending
your arms with bat
in fisted hands
and once more
and miss.  but then
you see the pitcher
smirk and smile,
relax his stance,
and shake his head.
that's all it takes.
the next pitch is yours
and you drive it
deep deep deep
into center field
and over the neon wall.