Just as I was getting to work this morning,
Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" came on the radio.
The volume went up and the remembering started.
High school days of doing little and laughing over silly things.
Somehow that song became our theme, our anthem if you will.
We were the brown eyed girls.
We found hundreds of ways to keep ourselves entertained.
We sang songs.
We made up stories.
We found adventures
and maybe we never went anywhere.
When I think of the brown eyed girls
I remember
making Edsel Weaver blush as red as his hair,
her mama's french toast,
Jerry's hot fudge cake,
watching "Dead Poets Society".
That other brown eyed girl
taught me I was mortal during her first year
away at college.
When I find myself
up on the hill back home,
I go by and visit that brown-eyed girl,
and leave some flowers.
And when our song comes on the radio
I turn it way up
and sing as loud as I can. . .