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That Dot
by Tony Whitaker
They say that life is a series of dots
each one an event that marks a spot
in the end creating a line of our life
One of these dots I remember with a smile
when this boys life took a sharp turn
for it dulled that which was well valued before
Foiled was the fun of feigning fist fights
playing Hide-and-Go-Seek
and Red Rover, Red Rover send Ronny right over
or bold shining knights with singlestick swords
Playing beer-can polo on make-believe mounts
or jumping over makeshift plywood ramps
are you old enough to remember those banana bikes?
And my brothers and I
in our tree house hideaway harbored
a comic book cosmos in a parentless paradise
devising pine cone grenades and rough wooden guns
I remember that day
calling over to that giggly young girl next door
come over and look at my prize said I
then laughing with pride as she ran off screaming
wondering why such a fuss
it was nothing more than a frog
But how I remember
on that sunny summer day
when this same silly girl and I
were on my front porch swing
chatting up our future fantasy lives
"when I grow up... we boasted
When suddenly she bent over
and kissed me with such purpose
and without thinking I kissed her back
then as she ran off
I knew from then on- I wanted more of that
Now as I reflect on these dots in my life
And the line that each did create
That kiss was a dot that marks the spot
where my line changed direction forever
02/24/2007 Author's Note: Boy Howdy!
Posted on 02/24/2007
Copyright © 2026 Tony Whitaker
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