There is a red milk crate filled with joys of the past
Whiffle balls and whiffle ball bats
They stand guard on the corner of our backyard deck
Weathered, cracked in places
It's sad, they are still waiting
Nothing more than a fragile wreck
Oh, but memories make them treasured
Just waiting
They still hold out for that Easter gathering
A moment when grown boys relive the days when young boys were delighted with the silliness and the over-the-house homeruns
Once and again, these old friends are used
Even broken but loved
As we again search for that one ball we'll never find again....
As well as the years
YOU ARE READING
In Review
Non-FictionWhat is "Life In Review"? Saga, song, sonnet, story, satire, summary, sorry situations, silly sort of stupid stuff, sense and non, poems, prose, anecdotes and dozy doats, and a possible personal blow or two. This book is a collection of writings, op...
