It seems like it was only yesterday

when I left that unpretentious abode,

where within its protective walls

I found my sweet, childhood haven,

oblivious to fleeting time; I remember

the big, old tree, gnarled but ready

to fend off the onslaught of elements;

I wonder if it still stands firmly

planted, battling the wind and rain,

the heat of the midday sun,

a cool sentinel in proximity

to my bedroom window.

Occasionally, I would listen to its

expostulations, reiterated in the cold

shivers of its limbs; I remember

the landscape around where Nature

stamped its form indelibly; the stirring

melody of songbirds, falling gently

on my ears at the break of dawn;

the sunlight filtering through

the curtains of my widow 

in the morning; the breeze wafting

the aroma of roses in bloom,

alluding to a pleasant day

in the making. I cannot turn back

the clock, but there is another one

in my head – - one with unseen

pointers, moving over an unseen

dial, registering times of days gone by;

its pendulum swinging backward

and forward, in concert

with the master clock of eternity.