The trees lining the lane sprouted green just days ago.
I’m leaving this place.
I ignored the cobwebs clinging to the beams of the old house.
I’m leaving this place.
The porch, my favorite daydreaming spot, carries the grime of winter.
The rocking chairs sit still facing the woods.
I’m leaving this place.
I look to the sky as I drive away. Clear blue. Comfort.
I’m leaving this place.
I know what I love, what I need, will come along, will always be there.
Memories. Blue sky. Sunlight. Family. Love.
Come with me as I leave this place.
