Poetry for a Thought Contest

Entry #4: Do You Remember?

In the shade of the latest slices of summer

inhaling the taste of soon-coming September.

Here, caught in stillness and willful eternity.

Staring up, stretched flat across crisp grass

drifting in mind, reminiscent of cloud.

Remember when this became past?

Blink—breath—heartbeat—I missed it.

Overtop the houses, the sun remains gold.

Do you remember it being like that?

Evenings spent wondering whose soul was sold

for this, the hill beyond our neighbourhood.

You and I, we wondered if this were evidence

that God did exist, if he were there watching.

There was explanation, divine or providence.

We were left responsible for something sacred.

A sleepy willow atop a hill and a cracked fence

tied us fast and absolutely to each other,

defining our essence, the definition of a cadence,

catching the end of an age, the beginning of transition.

You and I, we left this whole town, this place.

In doing so, we left behind a piece of us.

And standing here, I can't fathom the space

that once defined everything about that age.

I wonder, as I remember, what if we had stayed forever?

Would we have been the guardians

caught in stillness and willful eternity we said

existed at the top of that hill in the golden hour?

It's years after you and I moved on, up, and out.

From where I stand— here, now—it's still beautiful.

The only thing that bothers me, I have no doubts,

that if this place hasn't changed, it must be us.

                                                               --Written by KeriHalfacre