Relief

Relief

The extra-innings pitcher

has just the look of

traintrack houses

in Knoxville

Of early-evening Asheville parties

on a porch slung over the river

as heavy slanting sunshine

combusts into night

Mouth dipping at both ends

hair dripping from his cap

words spit like fastballs between

pulls of smoke and slugs of beer

Nine scattered round

the old Amana, the oilcan table

the game on the radio

from Pittsburgh or Atlanta

Five of us rolling up

with fresh lines of sunburn

tracing yesterday’s crew cuts

beer cans glancing off our shins

Rollie Fingers all wound up

glaring down at Lonnie, swearing

get your ass up to the store, still

hours away from the serious threats

Tilting back the crackled street

tall trees waving to the left

hedges swaying to the right

gas station dead ahead

Just supplies, Lon says squarely

as the screen door jangles

into filthy fans and flypaper

red Coke cooler, candy rack

Hughie winks at Len as

Sam bags Schlitz and Salems

pork rinds and Red Hots, relays

to Ken who doesn’t talk barely

Riverside the white clouds

scud across the sky as

smoke rushes down throats

and beer foams from the can

Clouds swirling

smoke curling

fenders knocking

mouths dripping at both ends

And then with a shout branching

bumping roots slapping

branches brushing gnats

pumping bends panting

Finally breaking through

to scour hands at the spigot

sliding only slightly late into home

beside the corner cupboard

Nannie bows her head and says

Dear Lord, thank you for bringing

all of us together here, and what

on earth has happened to your ear?

Well, most days you were happy

at the Oak Ridge Country Club

in the nicest house in Bluefield

atop the sledding hill

But what a relief

to follow strangers into woods

to stand in shadows listening

to everything alive