Green Hills Literary Lantern
Stealing Home 



Sprawled across the living room rug,

Dad listens to the voice of Herb Score

announcing the next Indian at bat.

Humidity hangs in the house,

like a thick carpet on a sagging clothesline.

Only the rose-colored lamp illuminates

Dad’s face in an otherwise dark room.

“It’s too hot for lights,” he whispers to me.

Kneeling down, I join Dad on the floor

hoping to catch a breeze from the window

above his head.  Turning slowly,

he acknowledges me with a tired smile.

Side by side, we lie quietly,

lulled by the monotony of the play by play.

In our silence I want to tell him

about the baseball cards I stole this afternoon.

About the same time Tony Horton

steals home, I nearly do.



After Marianne Woeste retired from teaching, she began pursuing a passion for writing that had only been a pastime during her working years.  Her poems have appeared in online journals such as Still Crazy, Greensilk, Ascent Aspirations, and Bigger Stones. When Marianne is not writing, she can be found reading, hiking, or drinking coffee with friends in coffee shops around Dayton.