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My precious time of when
Gladly would I do it all over again.
When life was not a time to chose
Only to believe with nothing to win or lose.
A family, a home and among the best
Our minds filled with challenger's and dreams and all
the rest.
Time was perfect except for age
Always waiting to begin another page.
We were warriors and knights but really only boy's
Time would eventually give us war and guns to become our
toys.
We exercised our prerogative of violence and anger
But only for a moment and never sacrifice a friendship
to become a stranger.
Out of time we had our gang
But only for friendship and sporting games.
Baseball and football upper most in our minds
Practicing for the elusive and on occasion to find.
We were the reality of what America was to become
Out of familiar loving immigrants every single one.
Other than family we played with the best
Swedes, Irish, Italians, Germans and all the rest.
Special names that came out of anger
Thank God never enough to turn a friend into a stranger.
Our conflicts seldom lasted more than a single day
On occasion perhaps three but then we had another game
to play.
To the real world we had no ties
summer a time of resurrection and become alive.
We spent our time together from morning till night
The gang waiting for my brother and I, to have another
fight.
My brother was always two years older than I
To be his equal never; but God did I try.
He was my protector, my idol and my very best friend
Never told me one secret, not even at the very end.
That which I dreamed and could never attain
Time it is you I have to blame.
Two years my dear brother and I never knew
I would have to wait until I became the exact age of
you.
You experienced the secrets of time
I knew but refused to accept, I would have to wait for
mine.
At night we slept as two peas in a pod
I was honored, for I believed I slept next to God.
What we were exceeded the word together
My brother of life never to be separated; never.
I know of not one act of evil intent you ever did
But what did I know as your brother? For I was only a
kid.
Brother's cling to brothers for there is no other way
Surely as true as the night to follow the day.
And so the line is separated once again
As we both wait for the time of no difference; only the
time called when.
Who we were or who we thought we were:
"Got some hayseed and my hair is seaweed
And my ears are made of leather and they flop in stormy
weather
Got some hemlock, tough as a pine lock; for we are the
Roslindale Redskins,
can't you see."
~A.H.O.~
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