Remember the playful days of youth when the sun
shone down on green fields.
When you’d run so fast
that the wind would blow in your hair.
The joy of rolling down a grassy hill
or skipping a stone across the creek.
The quest for a four-leaf clover in a field of blue grass.
The freedom of not knowing the price
of the snow cones and pink popcorn
that mother bought from the snack shack.
That snack shack, right there.
Right there behind that decaying wall,
on that concrete slab behind the chain link fence
Wonder when they tore it out?
The new boathouse is looking old
on this cloudy morning.
The sign says we can’t feed the ducks.
Mother use to bring a bag of bread crusts.
Remember how fast they’d gather at the promise of that bag?
Guess the sun won’t be joining us this morning.
Yes, we should go back, before bodies fail
and hearts move too far into the past.
Till next week,
Andrew
Andrew's View of the Week 
You have some very nice imagery in this, Andrew. Well done!
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Thank you.
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Beautiful but sad.
And no cats.
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Thanks. You can’t have sad and cats in the same post. It’s a rule.
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You got me there. Too much of a paradox.
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Cats are a paradox.
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Truth.
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Amazing — descriptive, brings back memories of my own childhood.
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Thanks, I was in a reflective mood that day.
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Such sweet memories. Thank you.
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Glad you liked it.
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Awesome takes you back to a sweeter time ty
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I was thinking of my childhood then.
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Loved it, thank you 🙂
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You’re welcome.
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great transition in this piece…. i wonder what my grandkids will remember?
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Yes, I sometimes wonder that myself.
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Happy memories with a touch of sadness for lost times. Perfectly written Andrew…..
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Thank you.
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This one gets us right here [points to the heart]. Beautiful and nostalgic. I think we do reach a certain age when we reminisce that way and you captured it in words quite nicely!
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Yesterday I was feeling the nostalgia after our walk. This poem seemed only natural then.
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I don’t run anymore. Afraid I’d fall down and not be able to get up!
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Yes, running is a part of my past too.
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Barely, remember all that. Can’t remember the last time I ran so fast the wind blew my hair. Sigh.
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As a rule I don’t run anymore and the memory of it so far away.
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Reblogged this on 1951 Club and commented:
I just had to reblog Andrew’s poem. So moving.
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Thank you so much for your kind thought on my poem.
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I loved every word of this Andrew. Your words moved me. As long as time gives us space to remember, we’ll be just fine. If memory should fail us … well then they are waiting to greet us in the halcyon fields.
All the best. Chris. 😊
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Thanks for your kind words. These days I find memories flooding in.
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That last line is fantastic. My heart lingers in the past a lot these days. Is it because I’m old? Lovely poem. Beautiful concrete images.
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I’ve been feeling old lately. In my poetry, I aim to build a feeling or an image.
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Time moves on. Well done, Andrew.
Ω
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It does, some times faster than I want.
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At least Time keeps everything from happening at once.
Ω
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so true.
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I find this lovely and a little melancholic.
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This poem started by me remember music from my childhood.
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Very poignant. Excellent.
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Thank you.
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