Rick Hilles's My Roberto Clemente begins with an invigorating homage to a childhood baseball idol and legend and ends with an appreciation to an anonymous man (possibly a retired circus clown or sideshow freak) feeding pigeons in Washington Square Park who sits as "still as any public statuary...as if any one of/our blue lives depend upon it." And how much our lives depend on the many discovered mercies-small and large-that this poet brings to our fortunate and ultimately grateful attention in My Roberto Clemente.