This is less a paean
to the iconic bridge
which opened in 1883
and was at that time the
longest suspension bridge ever.
But rather this is more of a
a bridge to my Brooklyn childhood
where I fell in love
with the ballet of baseball.
I played on sandlots, in playgrounds,
anywhere I could swing my stickball bat
and catch the ubiquitous “Spaldeen.”
The Dodgers deserted me,
but I still have minor-league ball
played in Coney Island by the boardwalk
where I go with my friend, Sam,
a baseball aficionado.
It is no accident that
Brooklyn and Baseball begin with the
same capital letter, and when I see
my Cyclones play by the sea,
(named for the famous roller coaster
over the left field wall. The Parachute
Jump is over the right field wall) –
that Brooklyn bridge
reminds me of the good times
of my childhood, and I realize anew
I am safe and back at home plate.