Today I hit it way out of the park

One of those few lucky swings, I guess

The ones that come every few years

To make up for the misses and grounders

There was a time when I thought

I could always hit them that far

But life and age interfered

Now I can’t even see them

Coming at me anymore

You know you are out of the game

When the bat doubles as a walking stick

Or a home run around all the plates

Takes forever and feels like a marathon

What remains is the memories

The smells of the dugout

The noises of the crowd

Nobody can take that away from you

No matter how often you miss