Tender Years

Written by: Connie Gildersleeve

Wet snow just for packing they say
Friends all hyped, full of grins, on a cold day
Four buddies daring one another to take aim
The smallest one made the first throw
Dodging and ducking trying not to be hit
Snowballs bombarding each other in play
Four rosy cheek boys all covered in white
Within laughter, a sound of great pain
The smallest one screamed a very loud cry
A snowball hit him squarely in the eye
Tears flowing, freezing on red streaked cheeks
His glasses were broken, a nose bleed had he
A snowball truce ended our wintry play
All three of us walked him home, chattering away

Today we sit together, thinner hair and a bit gray
Watching snowballs flying by our children at play
A memory we share, friends we'll always be


By Connie Gildersleeve
For Gail Angel's contest, "Tender Years"