Ricky

It was a beautiful fall day
And a rain soaked night
With leaves covering the street
The night they hit that tree.

No one was drunk
No one was high
Kids just drive too fast
over wet leaves.

I used to play with Ricky
He was kind of a tool
He came off as arrogant and snobby
Even in the fifth grade.

But he could run
And I know he lit up his parents eyes
And I’m sure they expected a lot
And I’m sure he felt the pressure.

But a lot of us did
And we were just kids
So we played baseball and softball and wiffle ball–
I don’t think we cared as long as we could get on the diamond.

We played kickball too
Which just proves my point
We just wanted to play
On that diamond, which happened to be across the street from his house.

I buried a time capsule near that diamond once
I wonder if it is still there,
I buried it years before Ricky died
I don’t even remember exactly where.

I hate that his parents don’t get to see him
They don’t get to fight
They don’t get to make up
No one gets to grow with each other.

I remember the diamond
And how we used to play
And I wish that he were here with us
and not just in spirit.

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10 thoughts on “Ricky

  1. I hate that his parents don’t get to see him
    They don’t get to fight
    They don’t get to make up
    No one gets to grow with each other.

    too true…too sad…the opportunities that we take for granted…

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