My Nostalgic Autumn

Jessie
Oct 17
2 min read

I find it fitting that my birthday (October 17th) sits right in the middle of Autumn. As a nostalgic, sentimental person, I always end up reminiscing during this time of year, when the leaves are falling and the nights are long, when the sky scowls above me, its great big clouds reminding me of sadness, of the past, of what I have lost.

A few years ago, I wrote a poem for one of my university modules and submitted it as one of my assessment pieces. I wrote it one night spur of the moment when I was feeling extra nostalgic. I think I had dreamt of primary school the night before so it was weighing on my mind. As it often does.

I don’t know about you, but that time of my life was particularly special. So many of my happiest memories were made in that playground, those classrooms, on the field and the school trips, with the friends I used to call mine. Nothing compares to the joy of childhood. I’ve come to think we’ll never be happy again like we were when we were 8.

Experimental in form, this poem is simply a list of memories from my childhood, good and bad, with some embellishments for the sake of a story. If you are expecting something spectacular, this won't be it. I am no poet. But this poem does mean a lot to me and it holds a lot of truth. This is my house of memories, the ones I can’t stop going back to.

Where I live:

- pretend cars in the playground,

- clothes accidentally wetted by running sinks,

- the bogie on the bench,

- my pink shoes that everyone still remembers,

- the black and white dog from the farm,

- glances leading to hysterics,

- the broken guitar in the barn,

- “tell me a good story, it’s raining,”

- grey pinafores with zips that caught,

- my laugh crashing against my ribcage,

- yelling timber in the hall,