That tire swing?
Splashed and soaking jeans?
And then, we swam.
Laughed our talks of nothing.
Walked through woods, through rain again.
I remember when.
When the world was larger.
So was the rock upon we sat.
Just you and me.
Learning how to read by your sister’s diary.
Memories of then.
Has now the island in the far off land shrunk and moved next door?
And that tag and hide-and-seek ruled world has slowly run and hid from us.
And now, how things change.
Not you, not me, just us.
Growing apart from what we were. So little water, so much dust.
Swings that touched the sky
Continually now hitting rocks with every push.
Knowing it’s not the same.
And that even more will change.
Still, I remember rain.