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On Being Fifteen In 1962
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On Being Fifteen In 1962

We ran the earthly pastures then,
The alleyways, the city park.
Spurning the sunlit paths of men,
We found pure wonder after dark.

On garbage cans we leapt and sang
In shadows of dark tenements.
Our West Side Story voices rang,
Transporting us past worldly sense.

We crossed the park in deepest night,
Stammering out philosophy
Love, pain-derived — hard-won insight,
While cooling currents breathed us free.

The Holy Grail of youth we bore
In innocence toward manhood's door.

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Comments (1)

Ah, the innocence of the young! Ignorance is bliss, etc., etc., Hey - I LOVED growing up in the 60's - it was a great time to be alive! Your words brought back a whole lot of memories.....thanks! Linda