Stomping Grounds

Welcome to Poetry Sunday. The day when I post something cringe, dumb, and mercifully short. This week’s edition is brought to you by teenage nostalgia!

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Yesterday was long ago,
but I still remember all those humid days
lost within your confines.

The games played,
the pranks pulled,
the roofs scaled.

The concrete walls that housed our fires,
with flames that touched the sky.
Fire truck, fire truck, fire truck, fire truck!

Baseball with too few players.
Football with too much tackling.
White, teenage ninjas getting into trouble.

The flashing lights—
the reckoning upon us.
The fences erected.

For years you were my outdoor home.
You were my place to take girls,
even if I didn't yet know what to do with them.

Your soundtrack was “Paint it Black,”
”And Love Said No,”
”We intertwined.”

Now I am gone.
Two thousand miles away—
many years removed from my heyday.

And so gone are you.
Swallowed by Blue Jays—
a victim of suburban sprawl.

But though you are gone, you are not dead.
You live within me—
in the memories I refuse to let go.

Dedicated to AW SV MP XA GM SL GL AGx2 KR KV EF TT AT NT

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