Poetry / Sandra Marchetti
:: Late October ::
It’s the first night of the World Series
and ten jets, like stars, home
toward O’Hare. Runways roll
out the plains in draped carpet.
Even though little league is over,
each ballfield lit up as if
by candles at the dinner table,
welcoming someone’s return.
From the writer
:: Account ::
I’ve written a couple poems describing how when landing in Chicago I notice all the baseball diamonds. There seem to be more than in other areas of the country (perhaps because of the flatness?). I was taking off from O’Hare in October on the night of the first game of the World Series, two months after amateur baseball is over, and a bunch of little league and park district fields were eerily lit—as if they knew it was a big night for the game.
Sandra Marchetti is the author of Confluence, a full-length collection of poetry from Sundress Publications (2015), and four chapbooks of poetry and lyric essays. Her poetry appears in Ecotone, Poet Lore, Blackbird, Sugar House Review, River Styx, and elsewhere. Essays can be found in The Rumpus, Mid-American Review, Barrelhouse, Pleiades, and other venues.