PaperHurricanesAndPlanes

The Fields Of Memories Are Alive Again

I remember playing in the backyard
I was preoccupied
With the pendulum motion of swings

I remember I could barely fit
The rungs of the ladders
In my five year old hands.

I remember that both my hands,
Could fit in my father’s, simultaneously.

I remember the wind,
Are now just memories,
Painted in a mental pastel.

I remember the sun’s incandescence.
It didn’t bother me back then.

And I remember the train tracks.
I remember the bridges,
And their exact location
On the carpet.
And I remember the tune
That building sung.

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