A carved out pistol of pliable pine
Tucked away neatly in the belt
Made me the toughest hombre in town,
King of the hill, the fastest draw,
Cop to their robbers, hop-along
kid,
Equal to whatever hand might be
dealt,
Eager to challenge the forces of
evil,
Ready with lightning to face one
and all.
Sturdy piece cut from the fork of a
sapling,
Strips of old inner tube tied to each
end,
Tin cans and bottles lined up on a
boulder
To practice an art form as old as
dirt.
Pebbles fly with the speed of a
rocket.
Bottles smash and tin cans bend
As mother admonishes, ranting and
scolding,
Wildly afraid that someone may get
hurt.
Pilfered ring from a Mason jar lid,
And fifty three tons of
imagination,
I've license to drive, spinning
wheels, popping gears,
Changing course and direction but never
speed.
I become Richard Petty, or Bobby or
Cale,
The winner's circle my one destination.
Not looking back as I race the wide
oval,
Desperately trying to stay in the
lead.
Life is so simple with youth as
companion.
Imagination is all that you need.
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