The Curious Case of Sidd Finch


He came. He went, a meteor,

Tall, spare, idiosyncratic,

Beyond the scope of ordinary men.


He came. He proved the impossible possible.

He did so without words,

His only companion, a french horn.


He came. He took off his shoe,

He picked up the ball, he threw it. 

He came, and now he is gone.


He came. It is April, the game is on.

Let us remember the man.

The likes of him pass but once. 






Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 483 times
Written on 2019-04-01 at 12:42

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Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Nice poem Jim well done

Plimpton's story, correct? Nicely presented here.