Briardale Projects...Many Summers Ago.
Updated on December 31, 2009
Briardale Projects, Many Summers Ago.
Beneath the
hood of child,
I wander melancholy,
in the shadows
of nevermore.
Kicking the
can of today
far across the backyard,
shouting out loudly,
"All-lee, All-lee, In free!"
and then chasing
my friends
long gone.
Giggles rising
like flocks of geese,
as I make way far
south of this moment.
Basking in the eyes
of my childhood sweetheart,
they were blues no girl
could match ever since.
Long curls of
sun burnished blond
draped her angelic face,
as we talked about nothing
but it meant everything.
Flipping baseball
cards with Ricky,
playing stick ball
in the street,
that masking tape ball
held a lot of dreams
rolled up tightly
in the projects.
Long hours of whimsy,
responsibilities totally
irresponsible.
Till dusk comes,
the streetlights go on
and I hear the voice
of my dearest dead mother,
calling me to
come home
and so I do.
Back to the
hood of adult,
like a pilgrim
whose progress
is impeded by the wieght
of the sins he bears.
Later my head
hits the pillow,
and the night
brings the dreams
that carry me to places
I haven't yet lived.
©-MFB III