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May 2015
Remembering the game I couldn't tell you.
But the hot dog, peanuts, ******* jacks and soda was there.
I didn't understand the rules as I listened to the commentator.
The calming voice and discussions between each pitch.

Remembering the game I couldn't tell you.
But being able to go to Ozone Park to see my grandparents.
I didn't understand the rules as I listened to the commentator.
As I sat on the floor in their living room with grandmas chocolate pudding.

Remembering the game I couldn't tell you.
But being able to watch my friends play softball at Randal Park.
I didn't understand the rules and there was no commentator.
As I was nominated to be the catcher for  just a moment or two.

Remembering the game I couldn't tell you.
But as I once again can relax somewhat in my head laying in bed.
I didn't understand the rules as I listened to the commentator.
The calming voice on the other end was just as calming too.

CMH
Christine M Harrison
Written by
Christine M Harrison  New York
(New York)   
777
   --- and CapsLock
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