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In this paved field
Marked by its yellow painted lines
My eyes fill with tears
As I think to other times
But what of the trees
Around which I used to play
Of captains and kings
Just dreaming the day away
On top of branches high
Pretending I could fly
Way up to the sun
Moments that could never die.
In this paved field
That I now stand I can not see
My sister with her dolls,
Mom kissing my skinned knee
Our dog chasing a squirrel
Barking in all his bliss
My dad and I playing catch
God how I miss this
My laughter blowing through
The branches with the wind
But this is no more
It has all come to an end
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J. Edward Moran from Ohio tells us he
has always enjoyed reading and writing poetry. |
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