Green grass becomes the focus of my heart
Orange dirt grinding into my cleats
White straight lines make the field a work of art
Yellow sun freckles any skin it meets
Food and baseball make a double feature
Inhale the smell of popcorn and leather
Family settles into the bleacher
Fans to the end no matter the weather
Calm on the outside my pulse races swift
My passion can just barely be contained
A pop fly to first, the catch is a gift
Delight surges from my body unrestrained
My heart pounds every time I touch a glove
Baseball is my all Baseball is my love
1 comment:
Ahh, the truest love of all. The ultimate metaphor for life. Careful kid, she'll break your heart every fall then tell you she loves you come spring. If you're a true fan of the game the love will be stronger than anything you'll ever know. The heartbreak? A true character builder. She'll be back come spring and you'll be waiting to welcome her with open arms.
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