Nostalgia

At some point

We stopped having to go to the movies with our parents

We bought our own clothes

And got to decide what we wanted for dinner

And oh it’s a beautiful thing

To grow old on the wings of that solitary falcon

And yet I find myself

Longing for the days of running barefoot through the rain

And playing mermaids in the pool

When injuries could heal with a magic kiss

When clovers looked like roses

But alas, the beauty of the summer day

Will only be seen in winter