Just Some Poetic Prose/ Thoughts

Today I walked up those same two crumbling steps at Mr. Gray's like I always did as a child. But something was inextricably different as I rounded the uneven sidewalk towards the pool - my head brushed the leaves of the tree overhanging the walkway. I remember looking up at that tree as a child - the branches out of reach as I would jump. It's a small birch tree, but quite frankly I've never had the opportunity to swing on one. Maybe I've simply ignored. It wouldn't go unnoticed today though, and I can't decide how that moment of new rustling actually made me feel. All I know is that Time has perhaps never been so apparent. I just stood, recollecting - realizing that Mrs. Gray isn't there anymore to call down to her grand-kids, I'm two years from having a mystery profession, and for a moment I wished those branches were just a bit farther out of reach.