Epitaph for Martin Richard, 2005-2013, an eight year old Boston Marathon Little Leaguer, who as a “pinch hitting” spectator, chasing his dream, ran to embrace his father at the Marathon’s home plate, died when the first of two enemy bombs explored.
II
A futuro Ted Williams, bursting with Revolutionary fervor in the City that spawned the emergence of one of the birth of the 13 colonies and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
A Johnny Tremain and Paul Revere pinch hitting for the ages.
III
Cry the flood of tears until the ducts are dry. .Old enough to know the legend of the Red Sox’s Ted Williams.
Fenway Park, sitting in the bleachers like a knothole 55cents kid, chewing on a hot dog, his hands on the rail, his eyes on Pesky pole. Watching his heroes, in those breaths only an eight year old Little Leaguer could inhale and exhale.
. IV
The eight year old female counterpart at the Championship game versus Japan,sitting in the stands, her sign “Wilya marry me, Martin?”
That enduring presence: the toothy grin..... chasing his dream.
V
“Martin Martin,forgive us for one more sob.. you’re priceless.”.”
Flags flying half mast, Boston’s Fenway Park, April 15, 2013
