Memories keep Haunting me,
and they’re everywhere I look
In the smiling Eyes of photo-graphs,
or pages of a Book.
The Boards or the burbs
and in Manhattan too,
in the crack of ever bat,
or in the Ocean blue.
Nothing’s how it was,
and never will be, I know,
but don’t you just get lonely
For those places we used to go?
When our Neighborhood was immense,
and we’d explore all day,
When Amir just couldn’t jump the fence,
and we had to think of
Something quick to say?
I miss it all,
the backyard dreams,
sun-baked mud
and climbing trees,
grass-stains upon our knees
with no responsibilities,
just summer breeze and Autumn leaves
and July’s at the beach
Where’d it all go, I want to know;
does it still exist?
My brother is a Physicist,
and he tells me time
is relative.
Maybe I can find that happy place
when Portia was still alive,
See Dwight Tooch’s smiling face
as we give each other high-fives.
Original Poetry 
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