Folding Chair Dreams

Written after hearing of the death of a little league ballplayer on his way to a game.

Folding Chair Dreams (a sonnet)


I walked into my shed last night, and there
against the wall, half hidden in the dark
forgotten, were the two old folding chairs,
The ones my wife and I took to the park.

It's not been really all that many years
Since summer baseball took up all our time.
We sat and watched the kids. We heard the cheers
The cheers, the kids, the game, subtle design.

And in those chairs we watched, and way down deep
A dream, no less than that, a hope, at best
A wish that maybe somehow we could keep
The cheers. Our son a star above the rest

There must be other dreams and other chairs.
But not right now, tonight there's only tears.