Huddled together for comfort on warm park benches
They sit in the inappropriate noonday sun
With sagging souls and bellies, wearily watching
The baseball boys in bright and agile bronze,
Uneasy knowledge in them of a time
When they, like these, could hit and fitly run
For beckoning bases. Playing then was prime
Before the fast and curving years descended
Upon them one by one, and struck them out.
O baseball boys, see here your final score!
For we grew faces in our flowery years
Soft-smooth as yours, our limbs were likewise limber,
Our throats as statuesque, our muscles moved
As mightily, our waists were just as slender.
Our voices carried, and we played as long
As sunlight lasted, heedless of the fears
Of old men whispering on the twilight benches.
One thought on ““Old Men Watching Baseball,” by Oliver Evans”
that’s a quirky line…that “inappropriate noonday sun”
like stop reminding us of what we lost and then they get charged up and competitive all over again, those old men. i’m gonna keep this close at hand or eyes or whatever to read again and then again.