Becoming A Man
“Want to play some half-court
at Stonewall tomorrow?”
“I’m in,” Lester agreed,
“has to be in the morning though
picking pears, for Mrs. Keeling, after lunch,”
“Be careful Les- that lady got a dangerous taste
for young boys” C.J. warned.
Smacking hands, again Lester watched
as C.J. sank into the night towards home.
Lester thought to himself
life is a lot harder for colored boys.
To Be Cont.>>
- Author: Jerry Reynolds ( Offline)
- Published: June 19th, 2022 06:26
- Category: Short story
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: dusk arising
Comments2
I really enjoy the way you write sir. It is a pleasure to read and I would most definitely like to read a lot more of it.
1952, year i was born, i'm just a young seventy sir.
Thanks, Dusk.
I was fourteen.
Thanks, Teddy.
I was aiming for just that. Trying to improve my scene writing.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.