micropoem for the day: Saturday afternoons

It was another time and another place. Maybe even another planet. But Saturday afternoons were something else in those one upon a years. We played baseball. I couldn’t catch a ball even if it was made out of cotton. I made up for that by hitting. We played cowboys and Indians. We went skinny dipping. Water pistols at ten paces. We went on long leisurely bike rides. Sometimes there was even a movie but that was rare. The world was our oyster and we knew where all the pearls were hidden.

cartwheels cross the lawn
tag and hopscotch kids
Saturday afternoon

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