© Julie Bolitho 2018

World Series

27 Aug 2019

I'm pleased to note that 'World Series' has been printed in the most recent edition of The Chaffin Journal.

 

World Series

Julie Bolitho

 

There are times when I am lost in 1939

at the World Series

holding my breath

as the Yankees beat the Reds

the war just a glimmer of lens flare in the stands

 

My grandmother was not quite ten then

but I am there

with autumn leaves

tumbling russet into my hair

 

The crisp air is cloaked in blue sky

and like snow on the tongue

the lungs suckle invisible charges

from the atmosphere

 

The perfume of polyester and body odor,

leather and red stitching,

rise from the pitch

like smoke

 

And in the distance

I wave back at myself

seventy years later

when the War has been replaced by another and another

 

and I cannot remember

what took me from here

or how I found my way home

or back again

 

 

 

 

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

World Series

August 27, 2019

Chicken Learning

August 27, 2019

1/15
Please reload

You Might Also Like: