The sun strays
as its ray
fall *******
the yard that
is long gone,
mud dried
to the point of dust,
green grass
a thing of the past.

No one remembers
what a lawn chair was,
or when
the summer went
so slow
as the old folks
sat in the yard
and yacked on
about some thing
us younglings
didn’t have
any interest in.

The flower bed
is long dead,
stone blocks
now play border
to a wasteland
of forgotten
garden dreams.

The old occupants
have long since
passed
and all that is left
are memories
and even they
will not last.