Written: 4/12/17; Published: 8/30/18
Remember that time
when you would climb to the highest
tree in our neighborhood,
the one that felt like Everest.
When you reached the top,
you would scream from
the depths of your soul
and bang your splintered hands
against your camo shirt.
Or the time when you ran
as far as you could
or at least until your mother
called you home for dinner.
Or what about when you talked
for hours, days, moments
about your new ball, or car, or friend
and your parents listened,
eyes wide and tired.
Now you just sit.
Your muscles have forgotten how to climb.
The only trek you make now is
to the kitchen. Now you only run
errands. Your voice has softened
to a whisper, making it hard to scream
or even to talk without first putting in your teeth.
Besides most of the things you could say,
have already been said.
Most of the things you could do,
have already been done.
So you sit and remember when.