The Fort

Here's a place we used to go,
Where it is not many know.
Up the small hill and through the trees,
Was a place we used to be free.
It contains all our favorite things,
Sit in the seats of the car and hear the birds sing.
Homemade signs with all our names,
Hoping someday we'd be writing them for fame.
Grandma comes to bring us cookies and juice,
Knowing this is where we'd come if we got loose.
We rake the leaves and shape them into piles,
I'm sure you could hear our giggles for miles.
There were times we played with fire,
But were careful; the consequences were dire.
The old chairs were made new with cans of spray paint,
Signs of the past had become faint.
Trees were climbed all the way to the top,
Little did we know, someday it would stop.
The trunks of fallen giants were made into seats,
When we played war, no one would go down in defeat.
One after another, cousins would lose interest.
Times like these put our faith to the test.
Until there were only three who remained,
These memories together forever retained.
Now, this place we used to go houses our past.
I wish it hadn't gone by so fast...

KZ