When I Was Small

There was a time when 

Time was never on 

My mind at all, yes I 

Do believe, I do believe 

That's true, though 

Long ago it was. When 

I was small, I never 

Thought of time at all.

Summers didn't seem to 

Pass, they simply were 

The grass eternal, forever 

Green, the scented air so

Mystic, soft and moss-like 

Yet of a clarity I can only 

Label crystalline 

The lives 'tween then and 

What I'm used to calling 

Now, filter time, sieve it

Somehow and mem'ries

Dim, become less fresh

Assume an eerie otherness 

As if it's someone else's 

Past that I do recall, so 

Perhaps the mem'ries aren't 

Mine at all, at least not 

The ones from when I 

Was small.