Remembering

I walked around where yesterday

the feet of children loudly played,

and traipsed through moss and violets

while fishing to their heart's content.

The grapevine's hanging quietly now-

where yesterday it felt the power

of tireless hands and Tarzan yells,

that split the heavens, for a spell.

Leftover bait,

an empty stump,

the first-aid kit for itchy bumps,

some fishing line still lying there

from yesterday's entangled hair,

discarded bandaid a hero wore,

dried up sandwich,

an apple core...

All tell the tale of yesterday

when my grandchildren came to play.