I enter the house and climb the stairs
to the room with the old oak door
I swing it open and look inside
then I walk across the floor
I stand in the room with my eyes closed
and hear birds softly singing outside
and the grandfather clock that stood in the hall
softly ticking each minute with pride.
I hear the laughter and the sound of the swing
tied to the od maple tree
as my sister and I noisily play outside
what a wonderful age 'twas to be
I smell the neighbor's apple trees
and the flowers along the drive
The sweet smell of new mown hay
and the summer day coming alive.
I can see the sun reflecting
off the brook and the backs of the frogs.
as they jump out of the water
to sun upon the logs.
I see the sunset at the end of the day
and feel the warm breezes of night.
and hear the night birds singing their songs
and see the firefly's light.
I can still smell the smell of fresh linen
just freshly put on the bed
and the odor of my grandmother's perfume
as it gently encircles my head.
Then I open my eyes and everything's gone
and as I stand in the bare room alone
I realize these things are but memories
I can never again go back home.

 
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