The Cape

(part 13 of 'The Cape')

Imagination is what makes up much of growing up. It serves to fill in many hours for an only child, or even for a house full of siblings. It can take you anywhere in the world. You can be anyone you want to be, alter any past situation or project into the future.

Most of the games we played were of the times, particularly what was in the movies. We were soldiers, cowboys, Indians, mobsters, cops, and my favorite, a Yankee. Throw the ball against the wall it would come back to me as a grounder with two out and a game on the line. I would call each play in my announcer voice and even cheer for the crowd. Playing actual ball in Brooklyn was an experience, high grace or no grass, many rocks and some gulleys in the outfield. But once I took the field it was Yankee stadium.

Imagination. It helped. You could see what it would be like if you changed where you were, or the way you were. You couldn’t change if you didn’t dream. I wish some of those I loved back then dreamt a little more.

I had a dream some time ago
Twas about a boy and his cape
The way he could duck reality
And use its powers to escape
He could stand atop a mountain
Feel the wind across his face
With one swipe of the magic cape
He could escape a dangerous place
He used it when he was lonely
Or to fight the urge to cry
It also came in handy
When loved ones said goodbye

Now grown, in his pocket a piece of the cape
Perhaps a tribute to adventures gone by
Almost sure it was imagination
Just in case, it can still make him fly.

– niz

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