Monday Sonnet: Flummoxed At Last

With this series I have endeavored to capture the Yankees’ weekend games in the form of a sonnet. Did my poetry inspire these Yankees to their unforeseen run in September and October? We cannot say for sure. What I can say is thank you, for at the very least tolerating this bizarre recap form. See you next year, and still, please do not tell your high school English teacher what has happened here.  


From the cusp of despair to clinching’s door,

Lifted by the boist’rous comforts of home,

Their playoffs defined by comebacks galore,

These Yanks seek one win inside Houston’s dome.


Verlander again proves a bugaboo,

As Astro bats wake from lengthy slumbers,

Judge’s solo shot proves six runs too few,

Leaving just one game to transcend all numbers.


The mighty offense that carried such weight,

Is flummoxed at last with conquest so close,

As McCullers spins two dozen curves straight,

These bombers fall short of that goal grandiose.

With a breakout star fueling sudden success,

Sadness is surpassed by the thrill of what’s next.


Photo Credit: Thomas B. Shea / USA TODAY Sports

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