A Boy In Illinois

December 17th, 2009

 

Late spring brought baseball to the radio
Back in those years of Gabby Hartnett’s fame,
And sports-page pictures were my special joy–
My scrapbook on those Cubs–and every foe–
Then, as I’d listen, I’d score each day’s game . . .
When I was still a boy, in Illinois.
And barefoot through the summer fields I’d walk,
A slingshot in my hand, without a word,
The hunter on his mission to destroy.
Through seas of purple thistle I would stalk–
Not cured until my stone had killed a bird . . .
When I was still a boy, in Illinois.

Then in the fall, down through the hickory trees
Where Blackhawk camped when Indians roamed the land,
I’d plan the ways I might my braves deploy
As, crouching on the bank, I loved to tease
The sand along the river through my hand . . .
When I was still a boy, in Illinois.

The winters I remember pure and white,
As we’d go crunching up the hill to slide
So quickly down again. How I’d enjoy
The way she’d laugh. Then came that long day’s night,
When that whole life was gone. My mother died . . .
When I was still a boy . . . in Illinois.

  1. May 13th, 2016 at 06:36 | #1

    Right now it appears like BlogEngine is the preferred blogging platform available right now.
    (from what I’ve read) Is that what you’re using on your blog?

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