Rustles in the summery shrubs,
the wind carries whispers and giggles
glancing from the corner of my eye
children flitting down a vanished path.
I remember, these little ghostlings,
they spring from my memory,
cavorting in the sunlit haze,
I sigh as my memories play, fractured.
Time is a cruel mistress,
taking youth, innocence and dreams
my childhood merely a fragmented mirror
that distorts those summer games.
A contest entry
- Picture prompt! by Quiet places.
1750 points, ended July 7, 13 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Turn your Green Trophies into Bronze, Silver or Gold (3) by DavidTennantRocks.
600 points, ended July 22, 30 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Feel free to be as critical (or not) as you like...
Comments
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This is an awesome poem. I too have memories such as these sometimes. But those days are long past as you explain in this nicely. Enjoyed the read! Thank you for entering my contest.
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Excellent!
Excellent look at the complex issues that are felt by our youth. The thoughts that follow into adult life to make decisions by. One never knows the result. Great job. Don
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