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Sonnets From Other Lives: Omar

For three weeks he could really see the ball--
reading pitches by watching the stitches
of the ball reveal their little mysteries. All
month he had been granted meaty pitches
that seemed to linger the strike zone &
beg his bat to smash their little faces.
He was cranking out the ribbies on demand.
Slapping bloopers right between the bases.
But now he’s o-for-three in the ninth inning
with two men on & down by two. One out.
He’s thinking too much now. Ideas of winning
& losing crowd the plate. He runs the count
to three & two-- taps one low & away …
Six-four-three. A classic double play.