The backyard smelled like oranges
The linen closet like dog fur
There was masking tape on the window
and pencil marks on the walls

Long before they'd ripened
I'd taken off and left her
But I'll never forget the sound
my name makes when momma calls

I could bring you back
My room is probably still pink
I bet the pool isn't green
and the oak tree is still growing

But no kids are jumping in those puddles
No mom is humming at that sink
No dad is cooking on that grill
You can't stop time's forward flowing

They say life is in the memories
But what happens when there aren't enough
and it's too late for more
What then?

Perhaps nobody is to blame
that our bodies are made of fragile stuff
But why did the ending have to come
with so much left to begin?