there was,

at one time,

a house,

on a hill.

strong cold cement walls hidden in a sea of trees.

i still remember the smell of the cool damp basement,

and the sound the cedar tree made

groaning in the wind.

and if i reach back –

far enough –

i can find the innocence –

lost.

can still feel the security of youth

slip off my shoulders,

and the absence of warmth with its leaving…

i grew up in that house –

well before my time.

learned lessons too soon to comprehend.

walked out of those doors

like a prisoner from a cell.

cowering  beneath a sun – seldom seen…

clinched fists –

holding pieces of a broken heart –

with no hope of healing!