Running through the trees,
I look back at thee.
I see a wispy white figure
Scurrying behind the stump even swifter.
Running to the tree,
I catch an actual glimpse of thee.
Mystifying, peculiar, and tall.
I want to see it all.
Running to touch the figure,
I see a slight smile start to configure.
But
The smile fades away
and so do all of my
happy,
sweet,
playful,
days.
So sip the charm, but do not drink it whole–
Nostalgia’s grin will swallow up your soul.