Marbles

Marbles

It seems like just another bag of yesterdays,

Those days of marbles in circles we did play.

We held onto mostly blue and shiny ones,

Glass and cat’s eyes, but mostly two-toned.

A simple bag with treasures secured by twine,

Held by each of us theirs no better than mine.

But the battle that ensued on playgrounds aplenty,

Bound us to the challenge to not give up any.

Fighters, guardians, competitors we were,

But now decades later it’s become a blur.

I squint to see them my opponents anew,

Stained lips spitting ‘baccy two spits wide it’s true.

Facing off as we always did fierce fearless fighters,

With watchers on the sidelines called sighters.

Couldn’t help but cheer for one or the other,

Some of them were family, some were brothers.

There wasn’t any time to give in or let go,

Bags of marbles and fighters standing toe to toe.

So they knelt upon the dirt as resembling raging bulls,

Boasting and bragging playing marbles at school.