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Archive for the ‘Remembering One’s Youth’ Category

Courtesy of favena.blogspot.com

Courtesy of favena.blogspot.com

 
 
At times it would be nice
to have a pair of magic red shoes.
Just clicking them together three times
would do the trick.
 
Suddenly I would be transported
to wherever my mind of memory
would wish to go.
 
At this very moment
I could easily think of a dozen places
I would love to be at this moment.
 
Each time frame
would place me at a time and place
where I felt greatly loved.
 
Where there was a skip in my step
and a constant grin on my face.
I can easily bring to mind
scenes of such places in my past.
 
Skipping through a mall with her
like a school child.
Dancing with her
for the first time
with my arm around her waist. 
 
Ah yes then their were those
first kisses
always soft
always remembered
always joyful
in the way those kisses went to my toes.
 
Truthly knowing what I know now
would I have taken more time
to savor every moment.
 
Time in remembering every detail
of the places of my youth
where my magic red shoes
would have taken my heart.  

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A Winter Scene from Cooperstown, N. Y.

Four years ago it was a visit to the Carrol Clinic in Dallas.
My back and hip had been hurting me for some time.
The findings were not good.
 
A Class Four hip.
A crack in my spine bone.
Two disks in my spine fused together.
 
I knew when it happened.
A fall over ten years ago while attempting to trim a tree
in our front yard.
 
The fall at that time resulted in nine staples in my head
and eventual surgery on my knee.
The other injuries laid in wait.
My future in enjoying the rest of my life was in doubt
with the activities I enjoyed so much in my past.
 
My mind went back to Cooperstown in upstate New York.
I was sixteen and working the summer on a dairy farm.
It was part of the “Fresh Air Program” of New York City for young men.
 
I remembered the rolling hay wagon.
Throwing ninety pound bales of hay
eight tiers high on the wagon.
 
I remembered the muscles in my arms
my strong thin waist
with a tan equal to a black man.
 
We worked hard that Summer.
It was the “Haying Season.”
The work went fourteen hours a day
seven days a week for two and half months.
 
Looking back now
I now realize how really happy I was
each of those summer days in Cooperstown.  

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