Thursday, July 20, 2006

Sonnet for the Son I Never Had

A trickle of sweat ran behind my ear
While i hit rocks with an old baseball bat.
I did that in the corn fields every year,
When I was young, but now i'm done with that.

Now baseball is a game, my children play.
Before my eyes, my son hit a home run;
We took the team to celebrate the day;
Root beer and Pizza for all: it was fun.

He doesn't share the Anger that I had
He does his best in front of all his friends.
When the team fails, he knows he wasn't bad.
To win, is a begining, not an end

In his young social life, I see no fear.
No trace of that which haunted me these years

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