We sat and talked about
going to a Dodger game
together, where the sun
is relieved by towers
of lights, drawing out both
swarms of moths and
swarms of fans – they roar
to the organ’s sound spreading
like a war song across the stadium,
and two old men will bond
over past and present prices
of a hotdog and beer
–I will gladly pay for two of
each, carefully walk down
concrete steps, stepping around
spilled cups of beer and dodging
a bevy of children. In a worn-blue
plastic chair you’ll remain
looking for me, and that meal of ritual.
You’ll kiss my cheek and smile.
But I’ll wake up and be
the one who is still alive.
Lawrence Reeder hails from Redlands, CA. Lawrence currently attends Cal State University San Bernardino and is completing his BA in English with a focus in creative writing.
13magazine 
A wonderful journey into nostalgia that celebrates life while acknowledging its fragility!
Beautiful sensitive, poignant poem that truly put me there at the game with the author. As Dodger games have always been a great family event of my childhood, I can completely relate to the emotions captured within this poem. It was definitely my pleasure to read this poem at the suggestion of fellow writer & poet, Michael Cooper.
This always reminds me of you and your dad. It brings tears to my eyes every time I read it. He would be so proud of you.
.