When Trying To Go Back Seems Impossible

I’m feeling a bit inspired today,
to find my tree
and write down everything I see.

But that tree is so far from me now
and its hard to go back.

Back to the days of scraped up knees
and sticky fingers,
When my friends were going to be mine forever,
and I was so naive.

I went back there once, back to my tree
and I brought someone with me.
Someone who I could be naive with again.

We swung on the swings
and raced to the highest point,
But I failed to find a moment
to go speeding down the slides.
I wasn’t able to sit
in my special spot on my tree that night,
I could merely look in,
as if from another’s sight.

I need to go back there,
but on my own this time.
And I want it to be
in the midst of autumn,
maybe the day following Thanksgiving.
Those sort of autumn days were always the most memorable.

I just need to go back there
and draw it all in,
Before its too late
and my inspiration fades.

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