42
by Dave Malone
What
Jackie knows
We
hope to know.
And
when Preacher
Steps
up to bat,
The
man decides
On
home. No fear
In
him we know
About.
Such is
The
stuff we cast
Our
heroes with.
In
palest nights,
The
widow grasps
The
lot of sand
And
diamond grass.
The
grace of speed,
The
running path,
The
numbered runs
Of
Brooklyn’s best—
Always
fleet
Of
foot during
Triumphant
theft.
Bio: Dave
Malone received his graduate degree in English from Indiana State in 1994. He
later lived in the New Albany area. He no longer lives in Indiana, but he
considers himself part Hoosier. His great (seventh) grandmother, Mary Coughman
Bridgewater, was a doctor of medicine in the early 1800s and lived at the small
village of Pigeon Roost with her family. Though she lost children at the
conflict there in 1812, she survived.