I'll remember this place
The smell of fresh air
The yellow leaves scattered on the lawn
How the moon rose outside my bedroom window
The one that looked back on the old compost heap
How the sun set sending the sky into a hue of soft colors
With the one single star that appeared with the moon
I'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 garden
The old brick fireplace
And the dirty collapsing shed
The little birds that fluttered with Grace
And landed on the old wire washing line
I'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.
