Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
The Pitch Count
Is it the 9th inning
when death jogs from the bullpen
to face you in your final at bat?
Or maybe it's spring training
when hope fails like health
and the team heads north
without you.
Blame it on the pitch count
when you slump after the All-Star
game in the middle season of your
life.
Suddenly the fever of August and the first
chill of September followed by knowing
you will not play in October.
There is something final
and not forgiving about the final out.
The ball taken from your hand.
Baseball begins and ends at home.
Written by E. Ethelbert Miller
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