Childhood Poem by Brooke Renwick

Hills rolling in through the clouds.
I played here when I was a boy.
Green grass and a creek running loud.
The seeds and the twigs were my toys.

I am older now and grey.
I remember those days very clearly.
Minutes became hours, then days.
My memories I treasure so dearly.

I will pass in the years to come.
These hills will remain always near.
My life so far is the sum.
The next generations will play here.