How the poem starts

Take a red hoodie, leave it
on a little league dugout bench
mothers drive off with kids in vans.

In the dentist’s waiting room,
leaf through magazines years out of date
let your tongue probe gums for the missing tooth.

Feel the cool draft sweeping through
an open window followed by a blue
siren stopping at your door.

You might see it approach from anywhere,
the previously scheduled program ends,
a slice of lemon falls in a glass,

after gripping the side, giving way.
Your windpipe provides air
for an overheard or recollected song,

a word gathers in the throat
like a ball breaking into the strike zone;
you make contact, it charges off the bat

a balloon floats away
a shadow traverses the grass
rifle shots riddle the storied sky.