can i tell you a story?
can i share a memory?
all about the days when we were twelve or thirteen...
when summer smelled like horses,
saw mills and fresh raspberries,
when our biggest worry was
getting in before dark,
when the world beyond the pasture
felt like home.
now i get to tell this as a story
and i get to live it as a memory...
when in the summer i cherish
all the raspberries i can find,
when it seems like all i have
when the pasture is gone and
now im buying my own home.
this is my life