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February 17, 2013
Games from the past haunt my every breath, lost words play hide-and-seek under the old oak trees where our worlds had no thought but fun and laughter. I walk where we once built forts of leaves and sticks, tearing down those buildings brick by lonely brick. Beauty creeps from the dirt of castles kicked over in frustration, I can still see the shine in your eyes where I cut you the deepest. Now only the ghost of magic fills the cool autumn air, and washed out wishes of smiles once shared, drift away with the breeze..
© Stephanie H., Highland Village, TX
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