As I couldn’t seem to believe I was really there where at a time a ten year old boy

Without so many worries ran and played, a dreamer who was much afraid.

Saturday, August thirty first two thousand and thirteen I once again stepped

Onto that school ground and thought of all that use to be and faces hard to see.

With the wind as my eyes searched around a long lost laughter, invisible sounds,

Remember the grassy playground,? today I imagined the ghosts that did in fact play.

Watched did I those memories of a yesterday, the trees are much bigger,

There was one that I use to sit under and read books with some friends,

It still stands, much older though, shadows of us sitting there, now older I am.

Many changes there are as change is in everything, today I changed,

We said goodbye and began slowly away as I looked at houses of old.

Brett Olsen, Mike Keefe, and Brad Gribble’s house I remember,

Ron Laufercade, Lori Prichard, Neil Haynes houses were filled with ghosts,

Others are a bit faded in my mind, heading for Esperanza to see what we find.

Pulling up in front of a school, a place of so many thoughts and memories,

In the heat of the day, we took pictures of a long ago yesterday.

One last stop beyond where once a donut shop stood, Winchell’s,

Past the park with the tennis courts, around the corner of Cordova Street,

A picture of a house, a memory, Kim Gilberts, a memory that rests with me.

Keith Garrett


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