Sounds. of Spring

In spring, the crack of the bat will sound different.

I’ll feel an emptiness at the ballpark. 

 

And while I am watching the ocean water rushing upon the sand. 

 

People will go on with their daily lives. 

 

Rushing to the ballpark to catch a glimpse of their favorite Brave or Met. 

 

Or arriving at the beach in the early morn surfboard in hand.

 

Looking to catch that one wave in the rising sun. 

 

Never knowing that you blessed these waters decades before.

 

With your heart, soul, and of course, your surfboard. 

 

Your kindness will not be forgotten.

 

Nor the love for your family. 

 

I’ll see you on the beach’s horizon. 

 

Surfing the clouds overhead

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