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Her Eyes
The game was somewhat long that day.
Dust billows curled and twisted
as runners stomped past bases.

I was seated alone as I saw her
ascend the bleacher stairs.
She sat with her back to me
so I watched the game proceed.

A crack and grunt
sent a ball overhead...

She looked my way,
and I caught her eyes.


By Gregory Haitz

Do you like Donald Hall's Poetry?...



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