Flowing green grass and painted wood as far as the eye could see,

Me (a young girl) and an older man looked out upon the sean,

Rusted metal rods and a small ball was all we need, 

Out in the hill country- Tapatio springs,

Side by side we play a rigorous game,

Deep pot holes full of sand,

 And small rivers where we’d sometimes land,

Hills and tall trees everywhere you glance, 

Anger and frustration was unheard, 

  Both miss the flag many times,

Excitement for one another as we make it in,

 The victor,

 Always the older man,

But little me was always happy for him, 

Ending the day without the sun,

We run home,

A long day comes to an end with a chicken dinner waiting for us,

 And an older woman with ice cold waters in hand,

My favorite thing in the world will never happen again,

But that's okay because my memories will always replay them.