Here are some other things he could do: he
could weld old water pipes into a swing;
he could build a mountain out of snow; he

could lay a field of hay flat, then twist it
into long green ribbons and pack it up
into bales for winter; he could squirt a

stream of milk into a kitten’s open
“meow”; he could carry four roosters at
once, all of them swinging upside down, their

yellow feet gathered like kindling in his
big hands; he could ride a horse bareback, no
bridle, and on Sundays he could be our

eternal pitcher, sending one perfect
strike after another over home-plate.