Mongoose


That old box in the attic kept me awake last night.
Trying to find the person you used to be.
Tearing through yearbooks, journals, and ages.
It hit me like a low budget sci-fi movie
when the characters are traveling back in time.
Pictures pertaining to the story flying by on either side.
A foreshadow here, an unrevealed plot there.
Memories swarming my peripherals as this old box
took me to 1996. To a day when I was learning to
ride a bike and falling frequently. We lived on that
road with the little yellow house and the deaf boy
I called my best friend. A minute walk from
the dinosaur park and the mysteries it held.
We would take trips to Foster's for sandwiches
and rock candy, those cavity creating cadavers.
I wish to be back there. I seek not the ignorance
of childhood or the simplicity of our life then.
I crave the un-blighted image I once held
and the times you would catch me when I fell.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem