Bill Ratner

When I was ten I looked back on my life.
Boy, what a mean and rotten kid I had become.
By age ten I recalled my first crime against girls.
I think I was nine when I used my slingshot.
An innocent little girl, probably six, was dressed in cotton.
My old cruiser was dark maroon, chipped, rusted, and ready.
She did not see me coming, and I rode close.
I loaded up a pea and pulled the rubber taut.
She rode her tricycle onto the sidewalk, and I fired.
It was like shooting an innocent victim in the back.


  1. love it! so vivid, so concise, ah, memories are grand, especially when you can inspire an emotion out of a complete stranger in a poem!

    Katherine Norland

  2. Katherine,
    You have definitely made my day! This is my first-ever poetry contest entry. I'm now swimming in a starry place!

  3. Good memory poem. I remember those days when I hid the tears until I was hiding in my room. Thanks for bringing back some not so good memories that were laced inbetween the wonderful ones. This is what life is made of. I always hoped they grew up to be fat and bald. ;~} hahahaha!


  4. ...from Jack Bowman:

    Confessional--well done.