Is this a good poem?
by Garret Craig
SIX months have past; 25 weeks, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These cheers, filling the stadium
With a spine-tingling rush.--Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty bleachers,
That on a wildly busy scene impress
Thoughts of more craziness; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again enter this structure.
Here, under the shade of the upper deck,
And view the spectacular greens of the infield.
These bases of white canvas, these perfect squares,
Which in this season, are sacredly unused.
The players all in uniform, sporting the home team crest
Amidst the wood and leather tools of their craft.
Finally I see the pitcher, approaching his glorious mound
The umpire gives the nod and speaks those famous words...
I hold my breath and anxiously wait...
At last--The season has begun.