home by dark by james casto
The world was so small when I was a boy
Just baseball and pants made of blue corduroy
And hope was easily found on that hallowed ground
Of my small town
I still skip rocks whenever I walk by a river
I still throw strikes to imaginary hitters
I still hear my mother’s voice and the words she would impart
Go run and play, do what you say, and be home by dark
I’d get home from school, it’s Hi-C with a straw
Then back out the door to the games in our yard
And dreams were easily found on that hallowed ground
Of my small midwestern town
I still skip rocks whenever I walk by a river
I still throw strikes to imaginary hitters
I still hear my mother’s voice and the words she would impart
Go run and play, do what you say, and be home by dark
Sometimes time plays a trick on my brain
I wake up and swear I’m ten again
I still skip rocks whenever I walk by a river
I still throw strikes to imaginary hitters
I still hear my mother’s voice and the words she would impart
Go run and play, do what you say, and be home by dark
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