Dead Children Laughing

the old house came tearing down and decades of memories came crashing to the ground as the rotten walls crumbled. The splintered wood jumbled and splattered all around spilling remnants of tattered clothing and faded photographs yellowed epitaphs of an age gone by. I thought I heard the laughter of children long dead. I imagined them jumping on the bed where they were conceived and born. I could have sworn they were in the yard clapping hands and trying very hard to shimmy up a tree that had withered and fell these so many years ago. It is as though I could see them grow and I stood and listened as pale light glistened through old window glass throwing shadows of their lives long past. They slowly slipped from sight as the day eased into night and I could not hold them near. When morning came again it was as though they were never really here.