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Board Administrator Username: mjm
Post Number: 4013 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Wednesday, July 20, 2005 - 3:09 pm: |
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Honorable Mention The Summer Town (Revision) Marty Abuloc A child's geography is crafted in dunes, waves gently nipping at the moat of sandcastles. The clouds are bears in flight, or dragons, or exquisite cotton flowers floating on the blue solstice sky. The mornings are full, the afternoons linger with twilight shadows overlong through the curtained window. The hours within are crisply folded, rendered by the cheers of a homerun that echoed past the ballpark, clear with each dash for the finish line, bright with the glorious call of play. The heavens are always open, wind chimes announce summer forever encased in a few days, in a boy's summer box with roller skates and baseball bats, carts and kites. And always, in that summer town that waits like a patient memory, I come back to pull that beaten leather glove over tired, aged hands.
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