A crewcut pillowed in the silvery sands
on the shores of a nearby lake.
A yellow ribbon bobbing perilously in an
auburn ponytail, as carefree as the wearer herself.
A pair of white bucks wrapped around
a stool in the malt shop.
Bronzed legs clad in faded denim comes alive
to the beat of the latest Rock 'N Roll hit.
And when these become but a memory, one faces
the grim realization: One has grown up.
(c) Gwen Beauregard - 1959 - All Rights Reserved
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