Wren Rushing Poet Rhyme

Those Days

Staring out the windows of my wandering mind.
I wonder where they went, those precious drops of time.
Those days remembered of a younger man,                                                                                   
moments not spent plotting future plans.

Memories of running barefoot through neighbors' yards.
No fences to keep in or out, our dreams free to run with no regards.
In a class listening while the teacher reads poems like lovers' letters.
She standing against a desk, a voice soft as an Autumn sweater.

Lying in open grassy fields with flowers on the ground.
A lifetime of possibilities, swimming all around.
Seeking safe harbor in friends smiling faces.
Memories you hold so dear and hope that none replaces.

Where are those days I wonder as I look down on my parents' grave?
Are they etched in the dashes that the dates hold and save?
Sometimes I think I see them in the eyes of my younger son.
I will gaze out the windows at his days and watch him through the yards run.



9/21/18

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