The family has come,
time to wrap up Old Bob’s life.
The bulldozer and bin will be delivered on Monday
to clear the last of the debris:
everything not given away
Blessed are the poor in spirit..
the detritus of the dead-
sheds of rusted tools
and forgotten memories.
Blessed are those who mourn..
one by one
Blessed are the meek..
Yard, dry and dusty,
to the once bountiful garden, overgrown.
Blessed are those that hunger and thirst..
Weather has warmed
to the perfect late summer
as the mementos of baseball glory
are placed in ordinary brown cartons.
Blessed are the merciful..
Last boxes of cards and balls
are loaded into the trunk
to be sold on Ebay
or stored in the basement
for the dust to settle
Blessed are the pure in heart..
Boy of summer,
face browned as leather mitt
and smiles of a pitchers eye,
buried in last winter’s cold
Blessed are the peacemakers..
*** One of our neighbors, whom everyone called Old Bob, passed away last winter and his family is here this weekend to clear off the lot where he lived in his retirement from baseball. A big league pitcher, he was a character that we loved to visit and hear a few old stories of the gloried past. We miss him.
wonderful poetry and heartfelt tribute to an old boy of summer – nicely done, K
Reblogged this on Apps Lotus's Blog.