I stand out on the grass of the outfield, just off of the dirt
as the teamsswitch sides.
I pull my blue shirt to fan off my body.
I smile as the ringof the ice cream truck chimes, and
children scramble to get in line.
Thesetting sun casts an orange glow over masses of purple
clouds crowding thehorizon.
I click my pitch indicator against my palm, a steady rhythm
thatcomforts me just like the bright field lights overpowering
the navy sky.
Mysmile grows.
"Comin' down" I hear over everything else. It'stime
to focus now, but later I can think of all
I saw.
In just a fewmoments of a normal
day.