
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.