Your Memories

The days on the hill by the baseball field
That you passed with a blanket and smile
And a father and sister who’d sometimes yield
And sit on the grass for a while-
So much was treasure in those days
The gold amid the dirt
Explaining, watching all the plays
The bug-bites barely hurt
You couldn’t have a seat, but still
The time was spent with joy
Watching baseball from the hill
Father, sister, and boy

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s