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VPR's coverage of arts and culture in the region.

Young Writers Project: What He Called Me

Alison Redlich Photo
Cierra Loomis is an 11th grader from Barre who wrote this poem for a friend who was killed recently in a car crash.

Cierra Mist,

that’s what he called me.

A day in June of 2015 was the day I got the nickname.

It was my first summer back at playing boys' baseball,

and my first game was against the 15U

first-place team in the division,

Harwood Union High School.

I was scared, I'll admit.

I had no idea how this game would turn out,

or what situations I would run into.

After smashing a ravishingly beautiful hit over the left fielder,

I reached first base and met a boy.

This boy was the first baseman for Harwood.

Eli Brookens was his name.

We exchanged a few words on the base that day,

and he thought it was so cool that I was a girl playing boys’ baseball.

After that game, he formerly introduced himself to me.

We got our picture taken together in my blue U-32 uniform,

and his gold and black Harwood one.

He wanted to say he knew me if I ever became a famous MLB player.

I still laugh because that was such a far-fetched idea.

When we parted ways and left the field that day,

he yelled at me across the parking lot: “Bye, Cierra Mist.”

Ever since that day, and every time he saw me, he always called me that.

The name has just sort of stuck with me since.

A few days after we met, Eli texted me to tell me the meaning of the name Cierra Mist.

“Well, first off, your name is Cierra, but it is special because it starts with a C,

and that's pretty sick.

“Secondly, mist is because when you pitched at my at bat, your pitches floated in like mist. Cheesy, I know.

“And thirdly, I really love the drink Sierra Mist.”

Hearing him yell at me every time we play Harwood,

“Hey Cierra Mist, how’s it going?"

is something I never thought I would miss hearing as much as I do already.

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