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There
was a girl who played
kickball with the
boys
whose
gap-toothed smile adorned a
face of sweat and dust
turned
mud
her
legs were tan and strong,
her heart
undaunted
and
when she ran, it was
springtime upon the
earth
I
can see her standing on
first or second
base
taunting
the
infielders
clapping
her hands to inspire the
next
batter
which
was
me
whenever
I could arrange
it
She
was never thrown out
stealing
as
far as I
know
and
I don't think she ever lost
a
game
cause
she wouldn't let us quit
til sundown made
us
A
century of joys, she called
them all by
name
in
but a moment's laughter
bubbling
like a boiling
pot
for
whom the fun of life
comes
just too jumbling big
to
hold
inside
I
loved
her
I
knew it
then
but
I know it even more
now
now
with years to
see
what
lasts, what
matters
what
matters
This
morning I went to visit the
cemetery
where
she kicked more than a few
home runs
astray
into
the field of gray
headstones
how
can she too
now
lie amongst its blooming
dogwood
trees?
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©
Shelley Harrison
www.shelleyharrison.com
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