To Summer Boy …

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I had the ultimate freedom of every boy

during summers but only after

work was finished …

(the yard surrounding my house being so large that

after 3 or 4 days I had to

start all over again.)

So I worked every day for at least an hour or two before

ranging freely about town from

one end to the other

in search of other boys congregated, looking for

one more player to round out an even number

for a game of tackle football or …

I rode to my best friend’s house where we

met up and headed outside of town for

two or more miles over black top and gravel roads past

open fields to creek water flowing under

the wooden bridge where I

searched through its gravel bed flecked with

pieces of mica flashing golden in the sun, for

anything living that I could hold

in the palms of my hands and look at,

my eyes boring deeper and deeper into life’s details

until it seemed I could almost see the

light within.

3 thoughts on “To Summer Boy …

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