Triple Mentions

Here on the green I stood
As I set out a first memory.
The road looked too long
For the likes of me.
The green was on the corner.
I was four years old
As I remember.
I told my inquisitor so.

On the bridge
Or near it I think,
I only remember the bad words
I was made to speak by older ones.
Probably only six
I knew nothing of what I spoke.
I hope 1962 Is a better year for you
The insurance man said to my mom.

And 1968 felt tragic to me.
It was like we were all doomed.
I had became manly too fast.
The root of childhood had been lost
Blind hope paid by a future cost,
Carelessly true senses sprang up
And cascaded to my feet,
And I was defeated at 12.

© 2014-2019 Christopher Thompson

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