The Memories.

I often find myself,

walking, thinking.

When a memory hits me.

How they are triggered,

I have yet to discover.

But they come.

Memories.

Of baking heart shaped cookies,

only to have every one crumble to pieces.

Of feet hitting trail,

trees and brush passed by,

muscles burning,

enjoyment.

Of spinning,

faster, and faster,

and being flung into mud.

Of a midnight adventure,

to a track and a high jump mat,

and a lot of spooning.

Of swinging.

Letting go.

Flying.

Only to come to the knowledge,

that i am in fact not a bird,

but a girl, with a now very achy back.

Of blasting music,

a van full of screaming girls,

and a broken curfew.

Of a little island,

a large rock,

a ground covered in poky pine needles,

and a day of make believe.

Of hiding with my dog,

Of an attempt to running away,

Of 3x failure sneak out,

Of ding dong ditch,

Of past dreams and wishes.

How sweet these memories are.

With their wave of nostalgia.

And a longing in the heart.

My sister wonders.

How it is that I remember

such old memories.

Another mystery yet to be discovered.

But possibly an explanation

for my lack of

short term memory?