Dream in Which I Love a Third Baseman
By Lisa Olstein
At first he seemed a child,
dirt on his lip and the sun
lighting up his hair behind him.
All around us, the hesitation
of year-rounders who know
the warmer air will bring crowds.
No one goes to their therapist
to talk about how happy they are,
but soon I’d be back in the dugout
telling my batting coach how
the view outside my igloo seemed
to be changing, as if the night
sky were all the light there is.
Now, like two babies reaching
through the watery air to touch soft
fingers to soft forehead, like blind fish
sensing a familiar fluttering in the waves,
slowly, by instinct, we became aware.
Off-field, outside the park, beyond
the gates, something was burning.
The smell was everywhere.
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We had gorgeous weather again on Thursday, maybe compensation for my movie date canceling. I did a bunch of chores in the morning, then I went to the mall to use a Bath & Body Works coupon and do a last Dialga raid with a big crowd hoping for EX raid invitations. Then I stopped at GameStop, which sadly was out of every Captain Marvel collectible that came with the cat, and took a walk in the park!
Opening day did not go well for either the Orioles or Nationals, so hopefully the rest of the season will be better. We watched some Brexit news and some of the NCAA tournament, then we watched some more of The Widow, which is engrossing though it still has major White People Making Africa All About Them problems. Some more gorgeous conservatory color at Longwood Gardens:
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