Line drive to 3rd base.
The ball is caught.
The laces break.
Oh, sweet glove that I love,
Parting is such sweet sorrow, but in a week you will be well.
'Til then, I will think of you often as I rub my left hand.
Remembering where you fit just right.
The aromatic smell of leather.
The worn spots.
The good times we've had.
I will miss you, but I know we will be reunited soon.
2 comments:
The separation pain...wondering if its ok...all alone in a scary foriegn land...missing and longing for anything familular...darkness..why, why did you leave me here? 20 years of service..love..attachment...and now...nothing but solitude and darkness as I sit on this lonely, cold steel shelf..by myself...will you come back? How I miss the good times...
You do realize this is just a glove right? That's all I'm gonna say.
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