There are places that I visit
in my mind, places that aren’t
even there anymore, but still I
go there, when I can.

In the memories, I am a child
again, running through the grass
my feet bare, my hair a tangled
mess and the sun warm on my face.

It is a carefree place to be,
and if I could turn and walk
back there now, perhaps I would
so that I could put the world

on pause for a little longer
and tread where the grass
never goes brown, where cross
words are never spoken,

and where I can savour
the freedom of a child
with nowhere to go,
free from worries and fears.