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by James Zealy

The grass was blue
A Blue green Hue
Pristine mothers birth Place
Antebellum relic of memories

Reminiscent of the south's old song
Sung to the tune of small towns
Thoroughbred dreams
Long and lean

Baseball teams of one
Hit the long ball
With a stick and a rock
Against tobacco barn backstop

Railroad walks
Echo into forever
Resonate to a child's thrill
Of fleeting thoughts

Blackberries and summer fairs
Big memories consisting of small events
Cast a grandiose image
That reality can not replace

A hero for a moment (in my mind)
As I played on this field of no fences
In a place that time has forgotten
Cowboy fantasy envisioned
Relived from its distant past


Author's Note: Revision of The Grass Was Blue. Based on my mothers birthplace of Carlisle, Kentucky.

Posted on 01/14/2008
Copyright © 2021 James Zealy

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 01/15/08 at 08:11 AM

This is lovely, James. If I remember correctly, I liked it the first time around, too. But this time, there is a simple eloquence blushing through every verse, and I love it!!!! Nice work, Mr. Zealy!!!

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