my soul still roams
through the woods back there
where every tree was a tower
every branch was a stair
a child’s discoveries
in each stone, leaf, and flower
the simplest of joys
came in climbing above
into the sanctuary of trees
these were precious days in time
oft’ recalled
well beloved
out there beyond
our small forest of pines
we’d run on forever
time would freeze
through fields of tall grass
we look back
at how far we’ve come
moments imprinted
remain ever still
a dinner bell rings
time for supper
Nature softens to gloam
as little actors
in a golden age
hurry home
to their place backstage
Brooks Bradbury 