Not to be a bummer on a Friday morning, but here’s a poem by Tim Ryerson as a commemorative piece to a young, budding ballplayer. I couldn’t find the story behind the poem, but there are far too many parents in the world that can identify with this. Published on PoetrySoup in December 2014.
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And there you were –
blue cap and jersey, white pants
bat held high above the shoulder
cocked and ready to swat one out
in that perfect stance of yours…
Shoulder turned, name half visible
(Proud you were to wear that name
Proud was I you wore that name)
Yes there you were –
smiling that smile of yours…
Cocky, confident, ready-or-not smile
The kind of smile of someone who
was exactly where he belonged
exactly where he wanted to be
in that very place, that very moment
doing what he was born to do
Fulfilling his destiny…
(Yes that’s my boy out there
Yes he IS a good player isn’t he?)
So there you were –
An all-star you were, oh yes, a star
a shining, glittering star but:
Stars are born to flame out, die
We are all born to die it is said
Seems only the best of us die young
and far too soon, too soon
You died too soon…
