Meteors and Moonmen
A meteor strikes its match across a moonlit sky and blazes
the phosphorous night before elements wipe it out.
I believe and don’t believe in signs; when I hear talk about
God, it ignites another in kind—some Cosmic Energy Source.
I see these grays when I employ my green and gold
plastic decoder ring found at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box.
Today I found poetry scrawled by a child’s anonymous
hand on back of a 1961 Roger Maris baseball card:
“A moonman gave me this card, but where he got an earthly
ballplayer far out in outerspaces—search me.”
But is baseball the answer to darker ills, or is it more
a mere reflection how everything corrupts?
How weather corrupts and erodes
old obelisks, cardboard, and bones?
How when it rains it rains fistfuls of earth
tossed upon houses with coffined roofs and eyes?
But remember the meteoroid that came in a meteor
shower—the very last one, the very last hour.
*Previously appeared in Sport Literate 9.2 (20th Anniversary Issue, 2015): 60.