an american pastime

the batter strikes 

the side of the muffin tin

a grand slam out of

the long stretch of summer

slides onto home plate.

the crisp crowd cheers wildly

perched on wooden bleachers

outside the kitchen window

and a hodgepodge team of colored flags

clatter together in celebration 

of winter's coming chill. 

we pass by;

mouthfuls of blueberry crumble

smiling under hooded sweatshirts

from the living room chair

the scent of charred 

espresso beans

ring through 

the echo of the frozen fire alarm's

still night

by candlelight

breathing in shadows of silence

from the slowly rising chest on the sleeping dog

and the crackling glow

of a smile bent on sleep

in the cool of a long autumn evening

found from the living room chair