To wish for more wishes, upon a cake,
Seems reasonable, hardly a mistake.
To wish for no more wishes, then, might seem
Ridiculous–but it’s not a pipe dream.
To see the world as parts and not a whole
Is a decent goal. Raindrops, not a cloud,
Mean that many more things can be allowed.
Without reactions to what someone thinks
There’s nothing called “jinx”. Just sit back, spectate
And let the game present you something great.
Announcers mention fragments of the past.
You hope it’ll last, whatever they say.
The rarest feats were ruled out right away;
Less to worry about. The symmetry
Means no one can see what might be in store.
Extra innings, perhaps? How many more?
Every run matters. Bunt if you have to.
Nobody should boo a game that excites
Like this. The present is the present. Nights
Like this should be remembered, win or lose.
Good news and bad news blur with our first hit
But it’s only good when more follow it.
In the end, we wind up with a slim lead
But that’s all we need. Without room to mess
Up, the risk of mediocrity’s less.
Onward. A convenient label is fine
For “zero, through nine”. Stock cliches, like, well,
Cake wishes, or descriptions you can’t tell
About in progress are better than just
An all-in-one “must” with “shoulds” all built in.
But all that they can try for is a win.
(Not “all”, of course. The memories remain,
Thrilling and yet plain.) The win’s not secure.
When you’re not in control, you can’t be sure.
Of what’s ahead. Two outs, and there is one
Cliche still undone. Though still nervous and
Half-hunched-over, a win’s a win, Now, stand.