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“The Baseball Glove”
Worries gone from my mind
and sunshine up above;
clinging to my giant hand
my childhood baseball glove.
Its color is long-faded.
The pocket's past worn out.
It takes me back to a time
before my self-styled doubt.
Back to days of make-believe
when I had not a care.
All day games of whiffle ball
and friendships that I shared.
As I think of long ago
and look, now, at this mit
I'm taken with the notion;
that this glove, it still might fit.
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