I have had the opportunity to write poems about many friends and
family. Many years ago, it was Little League and our kids. I wrote this
for Stephen last year and they still have meaning for me today.
Baseball Caps and Steve
Sometimes, I can still see him playing third base.
Or intent at bat, with a very determined face.
Game Day or practice, always looking to improve,
Drop a bunt, off to first, he could really move.
Practice catching a fly ball down in the street,
No matter if it is cool April rain or hot June heat.
Game Day Schedules were ours to meet,
With a clean uniform, washed and neat.
And all that remains, are baseball caps and a memory,
Of all that he was, and dreams that will never be.