I used to wonder.
About nothing, really.
My head was full of mud and wild strawberries,
Eaten young because children are impatient
And worries are small.

From the sunrise to the sunset,
We would play.
We would climb weak, young trees
And cling uncomfortably, because we
Were not as small
As we used to be.

We would swing and
Swing and
Swing and
Swing
Until we outgrew that, also.
Until the yellow plastic that once allowed us to fly
Couldn't hold lanky limbs
And tangled hair.

One by one,
The things that defined our childhood
Faded away, left behind in old houses
Or forgotten to a stream of consciousness
That made minutes to days
And weeks to seconds.

So many absent, mundane moments
I remember.
So many
I have forgotten.