Holdens Base Ball Mitt Essay- "The Cather in the Rye"

Growing up, I n forever really got along with any of the kids in the neighborhood. All I really had to count on was my gnomish sister Phoebe, and my brother Allie. Allie died a couple of years ago from leukemia. But his memory salvage lives on in the baseball mitt he left behind. . .

My brother Allie was a very

poetic person. He would

always write poems on his

baseball mitt. I always wished I

could write poems kindred he did

but I never had the talent he did.

Allie would prepare a marker and

compose his poems between innings,

after school, in bed, or at the mall.

It never mattered where.

Allie would write poems

where-ever he could.

I placid think of or so of Allies poems today, I even memorized my favorites. He wrote one on how the put away might change because of the weather, but everytime you look up, its always the aforesaid(prenominal) blue with white clouds. I loved that poem the most. I dont know, but something about change always bothered me. transfer took Allie away from me, so whenever I look at the flip over, I remember that some things never change and that Allie might still be with me.

Allies Sky Poem:

Its the middle of winter the sky is gray,

But under that gray, is the same sky I grab ever day

Its a beautiful color, a light blue,

And whenever I see it, it reminds me of you,

I remember how things dont have to change

And even though the sky changed color, its still the same

Its the middle of fall, and the sky seems kinda red,

But as I looked at the sky that night from my bed,

I remembered how its still blue underneath the clouds,

And that I can...

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