Sonnet for Santo

Notwithstanding February’s cold,
Angels gaze today on Cooperstown
Not a-one looks anywhere but down:
The Veterans Committee may be bold
and do their duty, welcome Santo
into their ranks. Number Ten has waited
by third base, steadfast. Now with bated
breath, stands by (unlike when on radio)…

Sharp! the phone rings, everything flashes
through his mind: five gold gloves, legs gone away,
one big heart that pumps blood Cubby blue.
“Bring him home!” Chicago choruses,
knowing what he’ll say: “You always play
the ball: you never let the ball play you.”

February 27, 2007