Girl Next Door
I wrote this poem shortly after I read and was inspired and moved by a better poem, "Rite and Passage and Popcorn" by Quoth Theraven. This poem is different, my own, but I mention it because I "borrowed" a girl next door, auburn hair, and braids. As it happened, in my life, I too had a girl next door with auburn hair and braids.
In the bright days of my youth,
I had it all. I knew the truth,
but Autumn's colorful leaves
were stolen by time's thieves,
and I'm long in the tooth.
Among the things no longer there -
the girl with braids and auburn hair.
All scattered to the wind -
the things that might have been.
I wonder why I care?
Life now is grey, russet, no more.
I no longer fathom what it's all for,
and as I start to falter,
I worship at the altar...
of memories of the girl next door.
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