A BASEBALL DREAM
On a farm, he grew up, the early days of the game,
A bat of his own was made from a tree that stood alone.
He had a name for his bat, a certain magic it contained,
Circumstances would get in the way, a dream put aside.
Disappeared without a trace until he arrived on a day,
His special bat carried in hand, this was to be his last chance.
For only a moment he would stand beneath the lights,
A baseball dream before he faded into the night.
Keith Garrett
keithgarrettpoetry 
Keith, I appreciate the imagery and connection to one of my favorite baseball movies, “The Natural.”
Yes! that’s the story.
On Sat, Apr 4, 2020 at 6:05 PM keithgarrettpoetry wrote:
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I like this very much indeed.
Thank you for reading.
On Sun, Apr 5, 2020 at 6:05 PM keithgarrettpoetry wrote:
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You’re welcome.