Young Memories Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Waving gently like seaweed in the ocean, willow trees
sway slowly in an afternoon breeze.

Silently lifting spirits with their peaceful, serene
manner.

Sunlight sliding on and off their expedient leaves,
motion always reaching inside, deeply stirring memories
of childhood.

Tire swings upon a branch, climbing into it's height
and hanging, letting go, and dropping to the ground,
only to do it over again.

Being a child is so very memorable, lasting throughout
years of aging.

Looking back, we smile at the memories, pulling at their
reserves to keep on going as we grow older.