At the old Coliseum on Friday, twilight –
section 305 all to my self, down-the-line.

Of course I brought a radio & ear piece along:
Baseball is best enjoyed on AM/FM waves, described by stoic & seasoned grandfathers
through occasional static and meditative pauses for the crowd’s live idle speculation.
Seagulls sail on a string above home
through the cool, broad Bay breeze
on a sweeping crisp eve out here in the East.

Did I mention we’re playing the Baltimore Orioles?

There’s a casual drums, bells & whistles corps
driving & chiming in green & gold,
accenting the eloquent, aimless events
on the diamond.

Jimenez’s got 10 strikeouts through 4,
but, “Yeah, baby!” (Austin Powers’ voice on PA)
as the A’s Rajai Davis steals second base.

Time and a couple of innings go by,
I grab a salty dog and a fry.

It’s appears to still be four runs to three.
We’re bunting’s my impressional gist, generally –
but back goes the mind to the slow waking dreams.

Once again and still the only one
in my outfield-upper deck-nosebleed section
where the shells of the peanuts are sparse but the stalest,
and a ground rule double ties it up for the home team.

I stayed, for a time,
in those far away seats
on that still August night,
by and by and by and by,
swinging in the moonlight,
by and by.

I believe we won 5-4.

(8/11/2017 – Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum, East Oakland, California)