DAYS OF CARDS
by Bryce Martin

I remember each, any and all,
Remember the faces, colors bright, some
Only in black and white.
All those days of cards.

No, Mom did not toss them
Away like blank pizza plate cardboard
Carelessly hidden under my bed.
I sold them, needed the cash.

It did not matter, leaving as they did,
As I said, I knew them all by memory,
All those days of cards.

All those baseball cards of my youth, my
Life and theirs combined, Gone now,
Who knows where?
Sold through the mail,
Frank Leja, Maury McDermott, Bowman
Topps, Forties, Fifties, some older,
Some cut from Wheaties boxes, others
by the score.
All those days of cards.

As true as any friends
Ever I could count,
In memory cast, full and given names,
Birthdates, places of birth, heights,
Weights, ERAs, ABs and the like,
Their numbers in life.
Faces, shaded and bright, as easy to
Recall as a summer sky.
I remember each, any and all
All those days of cards

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