TAXI.com

Santa Cruz ArcadeI strolled in off the boardwalk, luggin’ my dufflebagFlashin’ video lights, shone on my old dog-tagsSkatepunks playin’ pinball, were postcards from the pastI knew Sara was long gone, but my heart had to askI described a redhead, with freckles n French braidsThe guy said no girl like that, graced the Santa Cruz arcadeYeah, she liked the Willie stickers, on my old skateboardAfter some air hockey, we snuck ‘neath pier 44got run off by rent-a-cops, and their ten pound flashlightsHadda hide my baggie, in a seashell that nightThat last year of high school, I got lousy gradesBut I learned about livin’, ‘round the Santa Cruz arcadeSara quoted “The Dance” in her salutorian speechThat night we waltzed in the sand, on the starlit beachShe broke two press-on nails in backpockets of my jeansAnd swore she’d be waiting, when I left the MarinesBut it turned into mem’ries, of love we could’ve madeAnd they played on my mind, back at the Santa Cruz arcadeSome tie-dyed old hippie, who ran the haunted houseSaid she was a blonde and married, to a professor nowAll I had when younger, melted with the yearsSo I looked for a seashell, hidden ‘neath a pierLike smoke on a sea breeze, youthful dreams must fadeSo I never returned, to the Santa Cruz arcade©2007 Robert George