In the summer of 1975, the grass along Eldridge Park field ‘neath the old wooden roller coaster was patchy, tall in places, thin in others - but to us, it was emerald, endless, a kingdom under the slow, benevolent sun.
Five Small Legends from a Long Summer Preface Lincoln Street was the whole world once - cracked asphalt for outfields, maples for scoreboards, and porch fans humming like crowds in the stands. We were kings with gloves for crowns and pockets full of gum and luck. Every bruise was a medal, every laugh a victory parade. These poems remember that world - not just the games, but the friendship stitched between them. The way we faced down winters with courage, and each other with grins. The way one missed catch could become a myth. The way a single…