More than just brush strokes on a piece of wood

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I had forgotten

that freedom of imagination

was the best part of being a kid.

Time has marched on,

but memories of childhood still linger.

Tears were shed and wiped,

but the laughter still echoes

in the hallways of my mind.

A piece of wood,

a few hours of shared time by siblings

and memories captured

on a cedar shingle.


These are the memories

I never want to lose.

The days of innocence,

painted on wood,

frozen in time.

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