The Last Game

I take out my chemistry homework.

Now is as good a time as ever.

I occasionally glance up to watch my brother at bat.

He strikes out, but we clap and cheer.

I watch as his teammates give him high fives and pats on the back.

He is adored by his family and the admiring crowd.

I snuggle up in my puffy coat and blanket.

Blinding lights cast their glow onto the baseball field,

Remembering the dozens of games I have been to, 

How this could be the last.

I remember eating strawberry donuts and watermelon at games in New York.

I remember bringing my dolls and playing behind the bleachers.

I remember coloring in my notepad with Crayola crayons.

It’s almost summer, yet it’s a frigid night.

A man says it’s because we’re close to the sea.

I nod and blow into my cupped hands.

I bite into a handful of potato chips.

Tiny crumbs fall onto my legs.

I try to eat them off my lap, but they are too small.

Parents start leaving the stands.

I put away my chemistry homework because I have finished,

And the game is now over.