The Two Doubles, The Hits My Father Paul Ryan Never Saw Poem by Dennis Ryan

The Two Doubles, The Hits My Father Paul Ryan Never Saw



Monday morning, January 23,2023 at 6 a.m.

The two doubles against Spencerport, the hits
my father Paul Ryan never saw that summer of 1968
of American Legion baseball, the games that went
unattended the one season I hit over.400, even
outhitting our clean-up man Steve "Luigi" Lewis,
all well-remembered, invoked now, this very moment,
valued, highly valued all his hours of thankless
laboring in the pharmacy so we could attend
university debt-free, his lifelong love of Norte
Dame football buried, buried deep inside of me.
Water. Of baptism. Elm tree, front yard. Of life.
A full life. Cauldron. Of life's turmoil, struggles.
Surrender. Finality. Of death. Due. Do us part.

Monday, January 23, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: home,baseball,lessons of life,family life,father and son,father daughter,gratitude,brother,sister,grief,memoir,memory,psychology,summer time,time,human brain
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
My father worked in his pharmacy for years on end so that my brothers, sisters and I could have a good life and attend university debt-free.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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Dennis Ryan

Dennis Ryan

Wellsville, New York
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