SAVAGE
(Population 3006)

Quiet streets, Doors left unlocked
The gardens down at the end of the block.
Whispers echo of my past, the endless days of summers passed.

The woods behind my best friends house, an adventure every day.
The creek, the falls, the old tree house; no limit to our play.
The time has flown by oh so fast, there was no way to make those days last.

The baseball games two on a side, to sandlot football and the neighborhood's pride.
The ice cream truck and it's tinkling bell, excited young uns jump and yell.
Memories come and memories go; a gift for always - the minds eye show.

My feet did fly; I'd run like hell, when momma rang the dinner bell.
To pull a chair up to a meal so pleasing was worth the older kids rude teasing.
Those days are really not gone; they're fine; they are tucked away here in my mind.

We did not fear the dark of night; a bloody nose usually stopped a fight.
No shocking crime like we see today, a simpler time I'm sure to say.
Looking back to my father's world, men forged in war insured peace unfurled.

Even though we'd learned to cover and duck, the bomb, a distant concern.
We approached each day un-thunderstruck, no real worries of a nuclear burn.
As days went by a fear did grow, the specter of Nam had begun to show.

The evening news exposed the views, of firefights in the Far East.
Our youthful days became a bit greyer as leaders threw our sons at that beast.
"Why study hard mom?" "I'll probably just catch a bullet in Nam"

I don't know why I told her that; I'd retract it if she could but hear.
I hope she forgot it before I shipped out, but I bet she was scared for the whole year.
Some memories found are better left lost, the hurt and heartache return as the cost.

As I think of my youth I think when it ended,
With innocence lost and a childhood suspended.
A decision was made to get out of that town, to go see the world, to skip the cap and gown.

My old hometown still stands, greatly changed and still growing.
The old neighborhood is still intact, with new kids faces glowing.
They, of course, don't remember one of a long past lot,

The one son Savage lost, a young Barry Mott.

©Copyright 2001 by Russell G. Lee

Author’s Note: I dedicate the words above to the one son of Savage, Minnesota lost to the Vietnam War. Barry you were older than I, and I can only recall you as one of those 'Big Kids up the Street' But know that I have not or ever will forget you and the sacrifice you made for the rest of us!