Reaching 49
Not all the time, but once in awhile..
I walk down to the beach
hell, it's only a mile.
With my ass in the sand
and eyes fixed on a wave,
I laugh as I think
of how I used to behave....
As we reach 49
we're no longer a child....
The thought depressed me a bit,
but somehow I smiled.
Thinking of a time
when I was quite small,
I wondered what had happened
to my autographed baseball.
I remembered my tricycle,
one wheel always shook...
and the hours that I spent
with my coloring book.
I loved chocolate candy,
and big red balloons,
going to McDonald's,
and watching cartoons.
I reflect on the pleasures
of the things I used to love:
A new pair of Converse, my Stingray bike,
and the feel of a broken in glove.
Summers on the blacktop,
afternoons in Wilson's pool.
There were basketball games
every day after school.
Learning to sail in the sabots,
handball on Bayshore.
Making out at the drive-ins
that aren't there anymore.
High school football
under the lights,
and the parties at Beno's,
on Friday nights.......
The games at the courts will always be there,
at least that is what is supposed.
'Til one day when the gate is locked,
with a sign that reads: Playground Closed…
The skills I felt were bought and paid for,
were in actuality just on loan.
It is now that I reflect on the games I played,
and the teammates I have known.
It is not the medals or the trophies
that get dusty on the shelf…
It is the memories that are the greatest gift
that a person can give himself.
I own a chest of memories
and I consider them a treasure…
You all have given me so many…
a gift beyond any measure.
...An anonymous Old Bruin...