For my eldest son Daniel Jason, who would be 42 now, but will always remain forever young
A son is buried ‘neath Monmouth fields at the mountain of the little olives just a short pass from Vince Lombardi whom I’m sure recruited him by now.
I’ll bet his mom is at the game every Saturday in October cheering her young wide receiver under Coach’s watchful eye.
Comes the chill of Autumn days I wish I could be at the game rootin’ for our little man when Coach Lombardi sends him in
I guess I’ll be there soon enough the blink of an eye is all we have to see him run the down and out to cheers that only ghosts can hear.
.
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About toritto
I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004.
We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world.
I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday.
I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics.
:-)
That’s a sad one, Frank. Brought a lump to my cynical old throat mate.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Wicked witch, that I am, still, I shed tears over this one. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful and written with ‘FEELING’.
Thank you Toritto!
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Very moving words…sadness for someone so young to move on. Take care…
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