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Where I Lived as a Child

by Yvonne Schneff

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When I think of the place where I lived as a child
Images, like weeds, in my mind grow wild.
The houses were large and the street was long.
Community life was very strong

We laughed and argued and played dodge-ball,
But we all ran home at the dinner call.
We didn’t seem to have a care,
And so much life was present there.

When I visit there now, I’m shocked to see,
That time has chiseled what used to be.
The street is short and the houses are small
And no one is seen outside at all.

I can only imagine the lives inside;
All have aged and some have died.
Now, parents wait for the children to call.
And the winter of life is felt by all.

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