Children at play, remember back when, a Summer day,

Saturday and Sunday were always the best, did not have to rest.

Time passes by as the magic is taken from our eyes, days drift by,

Hunting for pollywogs, jumping rope, running through the sprinklers,

Kick the can, running with childhood friends until a hot day does end.

Can’t run fast anymore, hide and seek is that but an almost lost memory,

Kick that can! down the street, I think of you, girls and boys from yesterday.

Is age only a number? don’t let yourself grow so old, think back to once a child,

Magic waits for you, close your eyes and listen for the laughter, a child’s smile.

Keith Garrett


6 thoughts on “KICK THE CAN

  1. Keith, this poem takes me back to my childhood back in Montana. During the summer, we never wanted to be home inside until we absolutely had to. I can still hearing my Mom calling out to my brothers and I to come inside.

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