November 5th, 1927
Remember all the time you had,
Within your childhood days?
I often reminisce like this,
And hear the tune it plays.
The house so huge; the rooms immense,
The backyard field without a fence,
The street mile-wide; the birdbath wider,
Giant trees and homemade cider.
And then the barn, its secret places,
The wooden rails; the upstair races,
Outside gardens; inside meals,
This is how nostalgia feels:
Sweet and lonely; somewhat sad,
Recalling love; the fun I had,
Really happy; light-filled days,
Where the older me still plays.
And that is why I came backe here,
To look again and see things clear,
To have a peek away back when,
The year was Spring and I was ten.
But truth destroyed the memory,
There is no barn no giant tree,
The birdbath's gone; the garden died,
The house is small; I almost cried...
To see no field; the backyard ends,
A clump of weeds; a fallen fence,
I almost missed the tiny ball
That bounced before I heard them call:
"Hey there mister...not next year,
Get the ball and toss it here,
Throw it back so we can play!"
...And that was only yesterday.