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The Sign

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You get the sign,

left, right, shuffle.

The pitcher gives

you a long stare,

his leg lifts, and

you are gone.

The next 90 feet, full sprint.

The feel of your heart pounding

in between every step.

Never looking at the ball,

you hear the “pop”

when the ball hits the catcher’s mitt.

“Am I going to make it?”

The taste of dirt,

as you slide headfirst into the bag.

You hear the ump yell, “Safe,”

Everyone is clapping and cheering,

as the feeling of accomplishment and triumph

pours over you.

“Will I get the sign again?”



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