The Small Town We Called Home

We played on the hot asphalt
Bursting black bubbles under the August sun
Dirt clod grenades
And willow-wand swords and some imagination
Made us soldiers, made us spies
Rescuing damsels who were on the run
In the small town we called home

She was two years younger
And I pretended she was quite the pest
Her red hair blazing
Her knees dirty, and that summer green dress
Irish eyes smiling at all the fun
in the small town we called home

In the hallway by the lockers
Her passing laughter would catch my eye
A nod but no words
And I can’t really begin to explain why
I never thought she could be the one
in that small town we called home

I left that place for good
Her own road never safe or secure
An intersection
And we’re both looking for a cure
while looking backward in the future
Toward that small town we called home

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

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