Microfiction: The Game
Love it While You Can I miss it, we all do I miss the smell of freshly cut grass, the feel of new cleats The musical crack of the bat, gravity defying pitches Poetry in motion isn't it? Good plays have beat like Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" How can you not miss baseball? Getting dirty because its just so damn fun to slide, toeing the bump with the boys Constant chatter and smack talk I miss the sizzle of the grill and taste of food between the double headers Take me back to the days when handshakes were fun, trust me the superstitions only make sense between the lines Sitting in a cubicle makes makes you forget how damn good it is to be out there Nothing beats clutch hits, or solo bombs to take the lead Not a day goes by where I don't think how lucky we were to play a kids game Baseball taught me how to be a man, how to do the right thing, and keep things in perspective Baseball is symbolic with the relationship you have with your father, your mother, your