An Uninformed Baseball Metaphor

Walking home from work,

I pass a bonfire in a front yard.

Smoke coming out of the top

 

like the hands of a stadium crowd,

mid-celebration.  Five people surround

the fire like five fingers grasping

 

at a cheddar cheese popcorn ball.

The tabs on the beers pop and someone’s

head pops up from fire to say hello.

 

“Hello,” I say, “That sure looks warm.”

I walk on and I hear someone say,

“We’ve got plenty of fire.”

 

I’m half a block away when it

hits me like a launch from a t-shirt cannon

into the back of my head.

 

Plenty of fire and me with

cigarettes but no lighter. I walk back

and find someone has wandered

 

away, but everyone left looks over

at me like I am a pop up, soaring

and landing, just barely, in left field.