The Corner

The Miles City tournament back then,

We students looked forward to it, excite,

It, a taste of adult’s freedom, of nights,

Where we, as teenagers...no books...nor pens.

We’d go to the games, to watch our own men,

Playing against Sacred Heart, a tough fight,

Or perhaps of ‘State School’, boys of plight,

There’s a certain school pride to defend.

Those times, lightened winter’s burden for sure,

And as a nice break, in a larger town,

It’s glamour was not lost on me, its stir,

Of the high school routine, of its frowns,

Perhaps a shiny trophy to incur,

Tournament time was magical, hands down.