I Keep It With Me

I Keep It With Me

The grass is green,

and the stag tree sways-

just a little-

in the breeze.

It drops its fruit

and we watch it rot,

upon the ground,

but- oh well.

The house-

Oh, I remember it!-

was red, red like

a barn;

shrouded by the

spider bushes

and placed atop a hill.

This is the place that

claims home to memories

of grass stained shirts,

crayon rivers on the wall,

and static, dancing pictures.

This is the place,

so seemingly far behind,

but I keep it with me:

I keep it in my mind.