An afternoon nostalgia. Television show. You spoke in silhouette. (but they couldn't name you). Though the panel were. very polite to you. Oh but I remembered you. Friday nights 1969. Atv - you murdered every line. Too old to be a child star. Too young to take leads. Four seasons passed. And they axed you. Nervous juvenile. (Won'T Smile!). What became of you ?. Did that swift eclipse torture you ?. A star at eighteen. And then - suddenly gone. Down to a few lines. In the back page. Of a faded annual. Oh but I remembered you. I remembered you