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A poem relating a 'tragic event' in my life at end of summer of 1957. |
| When I was young, a boy of idle summers that went to playing ball – basket-, foot-, or base- -- for the simple years from 1950 to ’57, I did number among my friends two as best. We went every place. All year long, in school or out, we three were together. The two were siblings to one another. The younger and I became best buddies because each excelled, for none other around compared, at all sports. We competed! Each would try to outdo the other. We were usually placed on opposing teams for pickup games around the neighborhood. For years we always tackled each other harder, roughhoused stronger, until it seemed our bodies stayed abraded, bruised. Ah, those were sweet days! Then, tragically, end of summer of ’57, it all came to a bitter end. I recall not understanding it back then. Why must my perfect world turn upside down as the age of twelve approached? That’s when my tomboy friend got breasts … hormones … and became a GIRL! Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |