Heights

You say you can't ever go back,
None of us can
Though for different reasons
Return to tippy swing sets or
Throwing sun ripened tomatoes at passing cars,
Sipping juice from yellow honeysuckles that grew
Round your white wooden house,
Hiding under the washing machine with the archaic ringer,
Losing at Truth or Dare, having to eat dog bones which at
That age seemed better than the fried liver we had for lunch,
The dessert was to play with your father's pewter soldiers.
No, none can go back,
except in memory,
Whether it be for fear of violence or fear of Truth,
Let these scenes remain nostalgically sweet and
Move onward to the next sequel