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Fernando |
Fernando
The best Dodger on the mound
Since Koufax and Drysdale.
A finisher, you needed no bullpen,
You had all the answers
Written on the ball.
You were the truest Dodger.
At nineteen, with no English,
Throwing a pitch that no one could
Understand,
Throwing from the deepest blue,
Through the sweat shops,
The day workers at the corner,
Through the ghosts of the Ravine
Whispering in the dugout
As the chant of your name,
Starting in the bleachers,
Rose with your eyes
To the clouds.
copyright 2004
Steve
Abee |
