PILLOW TIME

And then I go outside
and walk around the place.

 

When I lived there
there was an apple tree
whose branches beckoned me
to climb from time to time.

 

The windows I can see
and I can tell you everything
about the way it was inside
when I was young.

 

I try to think of what I thought
when I lived there
and seem unable to assemble
those thoughts I once considered.

 

I know I didn’t ever think
that some day I’d be old.

 

Now that I am a rather ancient man
I wonder who I was back then.

 

I try to find the little boy
who grew up there
and sometimes stir up memories
as I try to grasp the past.

 

Such thinking does not last
and soon I fall asleep, wondering.

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