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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2064430
by Crow
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2064430
Going back to those places we knew so well as children is a haunting adventure
I'm looking at a place I knew,
When time was young, and years were few.
As I think, it doesn't seem that long,
But the grass is paved, and the fence is gone.
It must be that the workmen came, just the other day;
They felled the cherry tree, and the houses went away.
Did they notice anything from when I was there,
A skid mark on the sidewalk, a golf ball lying there?
I remember things just as they were,
But a mist often causes the image to blur.
Could that blur be a ghost I see,
Looking for its house, or looking for me?
Maybe it's looking for a place it knew,
When time was young, and years were few.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2064430