HIS BASEBALL CARDS
He collected baseball cards
like they were shining silver dollars.
He carried them carefully
in his front pockets.
He felt wealthy with his cards --
his Musial, his mint-condition Mays,
and especially his Slaughter,
a card that kids would kill for.
He liked to sit
beneath the flourishing sweetgum tree
and talk to his cards:
Say hey, Willie.
Pound one over the pavilion, Stan.
Enos, show me how
to hustle from first to home
on just a single.
Those days he strode down Lockwood
like a prosperous person.