A Fielder's Dream

The tired old man looks down at his hands and sees nothing but disappointment Disappointment in the way his hands move slowly and look like crumpled up paper They ache with the longing to hold that white dirty ball That dirty ball with its red seems and battle scares from opponents bats As the aging man tired he closed his eyes and lets his mind wonder He wonders past the city lights, he wonders threw time pushing away from the clocks grips that keep him old There, the man finds himself in the most wonderful of places It's red dirt and newly cut grass The mixture of the two old but forever longed for scents over whelmed him They touched him so deeply he found himself sitting directly in the field itself The beautiful diamond field has been just as he left it With a slow rise from the ground he gathered himself over to the chain link fence He picked up his partner in crime and that little white ball fit perfectly into his tanned skin Here he was young again, free to be with his first love A love that was never ending The man then threw up his red seemed ball and caught it with stunning easy As he wound up his arm and stretched it with comforted easy He threw his ball as far as he could and the further it went he felt himself slip away Though he slipped back into times fast pacing arms he knew he would always hold on to his dream, his heart belonged to the game and his love would live on even when he long faded away