“Growing Up in Southboro Park”
A landmark on a map, forever there.
Southboro Park, a place not far from school.
Forever pasted in my book to share,
I do recall that day I was a fool.
At summer’s end, a picnic then was planned.
My gown, a strapless, Lerner’s, stretchy bust.
My mother warned against this fashion, grand,
for adolescent boys are curious.
And so we played a game of reckless tag
and reaching back, he grabbed my frock (I frowned,
appareled as I was) but there’s no lag
mid cries of jest my dress came tumbling down.
Oh, vivid still, Southboro Park, for me;
indelible, when lost, your privacy.
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Not sure how this works, myself, lol. You might try this
https://jacquelinecaseypoetry.wordpress.com/2013/08/07
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