A child used to live here.
It's laughter still echoes through the empty rooms.
I see it's face through the dirty windows.
Play with me.
It's voice tears into me like falling from a mountain top.
I no longer remember how to play.
I've long put up my toys.
The swing set is decorated in cobwebs.
The shallow pool has been drained.
Faceless dolls sit along in the attic collecting dust.
Why won't you come outside?
It asks me in a whine.
Because I've been out there.
It's not as forgiving as it used to be.
The trees no longer hold wonders that I used to see.
The child was me.