She was a force to be admired and feared at the bowling alley
We stood back and watched, shocked by the ways of Mallie.
She stood up straight and tall as she walked to the line
Her strikes were amazing, her repeated spares were fine
Who taught her to bowl? We asked each other
Was it her grandpa, her father? Her cousin? Her brother?
It was another woman, said her grandma. It was her mother.
Another fine bowler, who arrived in a few.
Now we could watch not one amazing woman, but two.
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