Callouses, blisters, exhaustion,

Gloves, bats, balls,

Cheering, screaming, crying, laughing.

I miss the dirt under my cleats,

and the smell of sweat in my nose.

The way a homerun feels.

The way strinking someone out feels.

If I miss this sport so much,

then explain to me why I'm still not playing.


This poem is about: 



Wow--I've been looking for exceptional poems about baseball, and this short poem is fantastic. Thank you.

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