From brews, to baseball, to the Caesar salads we both like to eat
You were the potential just out of reach
The distant hope, the fear internalized
The not knowing when, or how, or if, we would ever meet
For once, for real, instead of on screens
Like the reflections in my galleries
I see you now in photos with him
Seeing both what is and could’ve been
Yet there you are by your father's side
Striding down the aisle inside, of another man’s church
Another man’s mind
I just hope that he loves baseball like me
And that he can paint the corners outside
Almost perfectly, just like a Rembrandt
Though I missed you this time by a single stride
I never felt like the game began
Because we both looked down that distant road
And you, glanced back, at a map inscribed
On that, with this, I bid you goodbye, and wish you well until the 9th
Best wishes. In earnest.
