QUOTE, 12X14, acrylic on canvas, Angus Macpherson

Haunted dreams pass,

in a breeze.

The new, the American pastime, I reach high in center field –

I cannot open my eyes, but take a chance and hold my glove

in the right place. The ball is caught.

And then, also just by chance, the ball falls out of my glove and

 on my cap – balancing.

I must not move.  How much time?

I mean I caught the ball.  The ball is rolling off my head.

As it drops again I catch it in my glove.

It is morning.