I'll remember this place
The smell of fresh air
The yellow leaves scattered on the lawnHow the moon rose outside my bedroom window
The one that looked back on the old compost heapHow the sun set sending the sky into a hue of soft colors
With the one single star that appeared with the moonI'll remember this place
The garden seemed smaller
The trees had overgrown
A trail had been worn into the grass down to the end of the gardenThe old brick fireplace
And the dirty collapsing shed
The little birds that fluttered with Grace
And landed on the old wire washing lineI'll remember this place

YOU ARE READING
Now
PoetryA selection of words that by no means should be called poems as I am no poet.