A short personal essay I wrote in a freshman english course in college. It's about imagination, death, the toys I played with as a child, and how they all come together.
The woods near my house growing up always held an air of mystery to me. It was a beautiful, yet haunting place that seemed filled to the brim with magic and wonder, both good and evil. This short essay is just a small juxtaposition of my memories of the forest; one memory in the late fall and another in the spring.
This poem was written directly in response to, and after, the poem "Rolling Stones" by Marina Keegan, an author who was taken too early from this world. Her words bring me comfort, and I can only hope that someday mine can do the same for someone else.