Poems ✍️

I REMEMBER the Chillicothe ball players grappling the Rock Island ball players in
a sixteen-inning game ended by darkness.
And the shoulders of the Chillicothe players were a red smoke against the
sundown and the shoulders of the Rock Island players were a yellow smoke
against the sundown.
And the umpire's voice was hoarse calling balls and strikes and outs and the
umpire's throat fought in the dust for a song.