The Glory Days
Vines
cover the rotting boards and the roof has caved in, but the old barn still
stands, a crumbling memorial to the time when we were girls.
Girls!
With the solidarity of youth, we scrambled up the ladder, watching the
surprised faces of the eager boys as we drew it up behind us.
Those
girls are gone now, swallowed up by the very earth we once flew across, our
young hearts pounding.
The
barn won’t stand much longer and soon I too will melt into the landscape. Then no one will be left to remember
the glory of our youth.
