Ballpark in the Wind

I just thought I’d write to let you know this is it, it’s over. I can’t fight over you anymore. You came along just when I needed you, but I turned away when you needed me so many times before and this is the last time. You have been there for me, always, but now there is nothing  left to do.

Nothing seemed to work.

You have been faithful, but I’m tossing you out. You’ve seen better days. You see, I’ve done this before, so I know how it works, and that was supposed to make it so much easier this time.

But memories are hard to let go, and I have many good ones of you. I wish others had cared as much. We’ve talked a lot about what to do with you for some time, how great you have been, but how overlooked you were.

You needed much more love over the years, but inaction and neglect were the best things we could give you. I wish it wasn’t that way.

You sure looked good early on. You were pretty and I thought you’d just stay that way forever.

Maybe all I can do is to tell you how much I have loved you. I know you wanted to do more, to be more. I am afraid you are not going to get that chance. The fire is just gone and now you are, too.

I’m not the only one who has loved you, though. You weren’t always just mine. I mean, weren’t you made for youngsters and oldsters alike? Isn’t there a lot of good DNA still left in your dirt, and along your walls and in your seats? It’s there.

We just didn’t care anymore.

You might be like that guitar a country singer sets down at the end of his last performance. His instrument becomes a hole in his heart. Just looking at it brings back faded memories, since it does no good just sitting there.

No matter. You just didn’t survive this. I’m especially sad for our kids who may not have a place to play the great pastime in. We don’t think about that, do we?

Goodbye Darlin’.

© 2019 by Skip Nipper. All Rights Reserved.

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