Wrigley Field

General admission, in August, against the Astros.

Swell to the bounds of any capacity
imagining all the confusion in the sun,
under the watchful eye of friends
and chaotic screams of random names
as the players all surround- smile,
with every child's laugh.
Green skies turn blue days
all fall from the rafters,
carpeting every inch of a memory
as time is nothing so miraculous
or overwhelming by the usual tasks,
including me- breathe.
Feel all the air can mention
turn around all over,
nothing could be so clean- safe.
The organ cuts her face
the men are here,
empty your lungs
as the children are all forgotten-
familiar song.
You are mine.
Raising the hands
and singing aloud a chorus
to the place where all the dreams come true.