The Final Season

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Father and son on the diamond this year

Our last baseball season with memories to hold dear

A pleasure to watch and play alongside

Each game infused with fatherly pride

He would start on the mound

And take charge of the ground

With the game safe in hand

I would then take the stand

To close out the game

My only aim

A father and son pitching team

Thankful am I to live out this dream

 

With bats in hand we step up to the plate

To take on their pitcher our only fate

If he ends up as a runner on base

I play my part and begin the chase

To hit him around and add to the score

A scene we played out many times before

When I am on base and he is at the plate

Our roles are reversed in his hands my fate

We have played the last game our season is done

It is farewell as team mates for this father and son

We will both continue to play this game

For both however it will not be the same


Author Notes

The last season on the same team as Dean is moving into higher grades I will stay back in lower grades. In the picture Dean is at bat and I am in the next at bat position behind him.

10 Comments for “The Final Season”

says:

My son was not really much into sports, tho I did coach his soccer team when he was 8. We have shared artistic pursuits and that is bonding as well.

Great poem, Craig.

says:

Whenever a parent and sibling can share something outside the traditional family relationship and share it for what it is, it becomes something extra special and for those of us who get that chance we know it for what it is cheers Doug

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