Seaver

There was no grace apparent
Marichal was beautiful
Palmer also
even Tiant had a lyricism
to his movement
Yours was a grunt
a sandhog
a lunch-bucket-shot-and-a-beer
delivery
compact
delicious
knee scraping
toe scuffing
Spalding glove
for a brief moment
resting on your knee
like a childs
placed on a table
the explosion
was coming
the legs
torso
arm
and mind
all at once
hurling
a ball
the batter
frozen
the fans
mouths agape
witnessing
perfection


the catcher throws
it back
and you begin
again