The whispers of the ghosts that haunt

the fans that cheer, players that taunt –

For once the names of greats were found

On outfield walls and pitchers mounds.


The stillness of the yard is eerie,

As loyal fans grow discouraged and weary –

Yet, observe the team pick up its stride,

While players and fans both come alive.


With vigor there are cheers of glee

Reminiscent of a symphony –

For what was lost in the games of yore

The ghosts have resurrected, and once more

the whispers have now turned to joy –

In rapture with the baseball boys.


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