Remember Holden Claufield.
Remember malted milk.
Remember how the big city never fails
to make you feel small again.
Remember the smell of damp grass and dew—the breath of Spring,
that once filled the halls.
Remember the memory of indoor recess and
the joy it used to bring.
Remember the wild poppies that once grew in the garden
alongside the stripes of pink and white begonias.
Remember scented crayons and stamp markers
that became your second set of fingers.
Remember the simple magic and beautiful symmetry
of a splash in a puddle.
Remember the feeling of water between your toes.
Remember the beauty of the an iridescent oil spill
in the parking lot; like a rainbow fallen from the sky.
Remember the pennies facing heads-up on the sidewalk,
that you placed in your pocket for luck.
Remember the untainted serenity of nature and its purity.
Remember the feeling that there will always be
something to discover.
Remember memories filled with innocence, awe,
and endless curiosity.
Remember the future is always a day away.
Remember being naïve and forget your experience.
Remember the sincerity of childhood and
forget the knowledge of age.
Remember you are young at heart.
Remember your youth.