I watched the sun go down behind the field
The team kept running drills into the dusk
The manager talk’d on, his face concealed
His voice going from mad to calm to brusque

My son, then a young teen, with weary gait
Goes running ’round the bases one more time
His face determined, though the time grows late
And looking for a glimmer of a sign

That this is was over; and, then soon it was.
His glove and ball and bat all in his hands
He trudged my way, beseeching me, because
He wants to know what are our evening plans

A moment still in time to memory linked
It flashes clear, then fades to indistinct

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Photo Credit: © Neilld | Dreamstime.com – A Player Bats In A Twilight Baseball Game Photo