Poetry writing

I Am a Child of the 50s

I Am a Child of the 50s

 Saturday matinees
 On the silver screen
 Crisp cowboys wear
 10-gallon hats
 Either white or black
 on their perceived goodness
 In our Columbus neighborhood
 We  pony up
 On bright Schwinn steeds
 Grab broomstick rifles 
 holster toy six-shooters
 ride hard 
 to the end
 of Mooberry Street.
 In that empty lot of rutted paths,
 Ohio burdock our tumbleweed,
 white vs. black hats
 Choose sides
 practice right and wrong, 
 rescue, die, survive, 
 prepare for life. 
Photo by Kevin Bidwell on

By heyannis

Poet. Author of You Can't Have It All. Available on
Contributor in ENOUGH "Say Their Names..." Messages from Ground Zero to the WORLD. Available at

Life Coach, Speaker, Writing Teacher, Freelance Writer, Blogger, Copy Editor.

8 replies on “I Am a Child of the 50s”

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