Ilene Bauer Poet Rhyme

Bottom of the Ninth

It’s opening day (that’s for baseball);
The season’s officially here,
With fans set to flock to the ball fields
To watch, buying hot dogs and beer.

If life were compared to a ball game,
Each inning a decade or so,
We’d root for our home team, while knowing
The game’s sometimes boring and slow.

Yet other times, there is excitement
And we take the lead in the score,
Without any way of predicting
What action is waiting in store.

There’s a break in the 7th for stretching,
When the game’s cut as if by a knife,
Which is like when it’s time to retire
And confront what is left of your life.

Then the players get back in position,
The outcome still up in the air,
But there isn’t much time to the finish
And perhaps not much power to spare.

Now my husband’s a bit of a joker;
This baseball/life theme’s his, not mine,
Yet when he said we’re in the 9th inning*,
I knew I would pilfer that line.

*The title is what he actually said about 
where we’re at, which cracked me up…

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