When I was just a tiny kid,
Do you remember when,
The time you kissed my bruises,
Or cleaned by soiled chin?
You scrambled for the balls I hit,
(Short-winded more than not,)
Yet, every time we’d play a game,
You praised the “outs” I caught.
It seems like only yesterday,
You wiped away my tears,
And late at night I called your name,
To chase away my fears.
Though time has changed your handsome grip,
Your hair is snowy white,
You gait’s a little slower now,
Thick glasses help your sight.
Oh, do I thirst for years gone by,
To be that growing lad,
Re-living all of the memories,
Of growing with my dad.
Author: Tracy Anne Beaty