I am attempting some more poetry, so here it goes:

I am Baseball

from Rawlings and Cowhide

I am from the mound on the infield

Pointed, with a slab of rubber

It is a hill

I am from the infield dirt

the mixture of sand, slit and clay

Whose feel is soft

I am from the lightning of a magic arm

From Young to Scherzar

From the one-to-one battle that I control

I am baseball

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This is the only pic I have of my mother and me. I think this was taken when I was five.

Thirty years ago today she passed. I know that she and I had some issues her last couple of years (Mostly because I was stubborn as mule and thought I knew it all in my early 20's).

Anyway, she did install in me some values of being a good steward on this earth and to be kind. Both of which it took me until I was older to figure out and apply in my life.

Hopefully I passed on those values to her grand-children.

42Jay Malakaua, Diane Wang and 40 others

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Patrick weseman

Just a simple man, finding his voice. Nothing more and nothing less. I am not politically correct and not that intellectual but just curious about the world.