I close my eyes and hear old songs
Memories in my head jump for joy
What or where or when, no need for how or why
Letting my mind bathe my thoughts
Back to a boy somewhere in time
A small-town lad making his way
Thru field and woods a path to take
Past slim tall silvery water tower
We pinged with medium rocks and stones
A ball and glove and taped up bat
To Sunset Avenue school to meet
To play all day then home to eat
In a year or two it’s basketball
Running up and down wooden floor
Making jumpers sometimes not
We play for champions of the league
As many have done in the past
We make memories and meet girls
Then graduate we feel way to soon
West Bridgewater Hail Farewell …
About the Creator
David X. Sheehan
I write my memories, family, school, jobs, fatherhood, friendship, serious and silly. I read Vocal authors and am humbled by most. I'm 76, in Thomaston, Maine. I seek to spread my brand of sincere love for all who will receive.
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