a hillside where I played, now lies dormant…unused. 
laughter no longer carries in the wind  
where childish breath was once contrasted to the pitch night sky 
the grass, still worn, but not from play  
for there is a gray hue of neglect that looms across its blades 
this lonely hillock connects me to my past 
the lost adventures of a youngster  
where berries were alien and stones stood as kid’ish vessels 
simpler then, necessary, far from times reach 
now that time binds me to the present, I can only reflect on the before 
as I do, memories swarm my mind and I start to see the patches of green again 
familiar images beautifully paint my imagination, chasing away the dark shadows 
irrelevance slowly deliquescing away 
my boyish reminiscence forever welcomed 
I see more beyond this passed by place  
and embrace a trigger to the memories it has kept for me this long 
that hillside… 
…where I played.