Sometimes to recall childhood days are lost with what life takes away,

A bicycle of color sits for years until its age is seen through cobwebs so clear.

A shed or a box of stored away and at times forgotten treasures are again a thought,

Going back to a place where once we stood on sidewalks of ghosts, friends we knew.

Trees grow taller, houses rest where inside we once knew those with faces and names,

Hills, where we wandered, have disappeared with this changing world.

Nothing seems to stay the same, faces fade, children we knew all go away,

There are those times when i can just stand there and somewhere in the wind,

When the night is quiet, there’s a fragrance in the air, that feeling of that yesterday.

Like a cloud or veil as the seasons change and we all go our separate ways,

Thoughts change, some memories drift with passing winds.

Rust from time, if so blessed then may we all play the memories in our minds

For just a little while longer.

Keith Garrett


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