With Reckless Abandon - Part 2

The woods behind Doug Richter’s house, although still remaining geographically Are long buried in the memories of the boys who ran through them screaming, “Here I come, ready or not” Some of us have made it through life slowly, always being the first to be tagged Some of us have found great hiding places to avoid trouble Some of us have led and some of us have followed I was surprised to learn about Doug’s passing a few days ago I never suspected he would be tagged so young … before the rest of us I am told that Doug’s ashes are to be spread in those very woods that we ran through so many years ago That seems so fitting to me I wish I could be there with the old friends sitting around one more camp fire Bic butanes securely put away To remember Doug Somehow, I think I would still expect to see Doug walking out of the woods With scrapes and scratches; blood on his arms, legs and clothing And a big ole smile on his face With everyone else having been tagged, yelling, “All ye, all ye come in free” The only way to get Doug out of the woods I imagine Doug running into heaven Smiling wildly And entering those gates, too, with reckless abandon