Things I miss because I loved them

Things I miss because I loved them

It is mid-winter in Gravesend
outside the window of the southbound F train
there is just enough left of the dimming day
for me to get this elevated view
traversing between Avenues X and Neptune
of where the fields once lay
the rattle of the rounding wheels on the rails
punctuate my memories and echo
they're gone -- they're gone -- they're gone --they're gone
I miss them because I loved them


Telltale tracks of earthmovers and heavy machinery
where was once baselines and bleachers
infield grass, a pitcher's mound, a home plate
dugouts and foul poles being replaced by concrete, rebar, and cinderblock
gone the scent of fresh cut outfield grass
gone the heavy air thick with grease and smoke from concession's grill
gone the cheers, gone the jeers, gone the laudations
of parents, friends, relations, and other fans
gone the hoping for a sudden sun shower to stop
and let the game go to the inning's bottom half
I miss them because I loved them


The boys who were my seasonal wards
grown to be men with less time for the pastime
remain boys to me in my retrospections
they won't be making the cacophonous clatter
of puerile shenanigans while I'm busy coaching third
we will not be trading gibes and other affectionate invectives
between gulps of Gatorade, or through a jaw full of Big League Chew
I won't get to hear the cracking bat of a hit sharply up the middle
or see the ballet of a 4-6-3 double play turned well
I miss them because I loved them


Toeing the chalk
caps held to chests and facing the flag
a tinny speaker sounding the Anthem
with its crackling finale chords
a word or two of encouragement from me
my boys taking to field
blue line-up cards in his shirt pocket
I still can hear in my mind's ear
the umpire officiously declare Play Ball
I miss them because I loved them


Settling back in my cold hard seat, turning my face from the window
the southbound F train rumbles toward the station
leaving behind my elevated view of the now derelict fields
leaving behind the warm Gravesend Bay breezes
that swept across the manicured grass and the sunburnt faces of
my boys of those Summers past
and flapped the flag, high aloft
the sun bleached pole in left center field
just beyond the warning track against the tall green fencing
These things I miss because I loved them