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mikebroganPoems
Even as I walk past, Comerica stands grass illuminates like a lamp post on a winter night. Tigers season, baby Dad and I do our yearly tradition. The smell of the park is second to none. But not this year. Dad ain't doin so well. His knee ain't up for it. Love you, old man. Maybe, just maybe, the old Tigs will surprise us and make the playoffs and then maybe, just maybe, we can go to a game and let that tradition ride on.
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
Green Haven in a Concrete Jungle
Even as I walk past, Comerica stands grass illuminates like a lamp post on a winter night. Tigers season, baby Dad and I do our yearly tradition. The smell of the park is second to none. But not this year. Dad ain't doin so well. His knee ain't up for it. Love you, old man. Maybe, just maybe, the old Tigs will surprise us and make the playoffs and then maybe, just maybe, we can go to a game and let that tradition ride on.
Poem inspired by the All Star Game coming up. Every year it's our Father-Son tradition to go to a game but dad has knee replacement surgery so it's hard to get to this year. Baseball is one of the only things we bond over.
#father#dad#baseball
mikebrogan
Written by
mikebrogan
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
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