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  
 Used 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 am I.
 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.
 Bret Olsen, Mike Keefe, and Brad Gribble's, 
 Houses 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 Gilbert's, a 
 Memory that rests with me.
                          Keith Garrett            

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