It’s my best friend on Friday,

and Saturday.
It is where I
play.
It’s my life;
It’s where I play baseball.
It has the ginormous wall,
the Green Monster.
It's a personal
place to me.
It's where I
hit my first home run.
Had my first up to bat
of the 2015 season.
I have hit 13 homeruns
here, out of 20 games.
It smells of fresh frost and cold air,
with five bases white like snow,     
2 umpires,
1 catcher,
1 pitcher,
3 outfielders,
4 infielders,
and me the batter,
staring down the pitcher
with his long, curly hair.
Staring down the runner at 3rd,
then there's me stalking him,
every move, every breathe.
Squeezing the rubbery grip on my
licorice colored bat, ready for it to explode,
with pop and to hit one out.
I time it up, see the pearl ball
then a crack of the bat then silence,
voiceless but all I hear are the scarlet seams of the ball
flying with the air.
And it’s out of the park and
everyone explodes in thunder.
All I see are people screaming.
All I feel is me do a bat flip,
and I skip and then gallop
I step on that home plate
and feel great,
not only great...
accomplished…