My Life In Word

Hold Fast

Hold fast to innocence
and your days of youth,
to the barefoot wonder,
to the unbroken truth.
Hold fast
to laughter before it learned
to hide,
to dreams that still knew
how to open wide.
Time, like a freight train,
runs hard down the track,
carrying summers
that never come back.
It whistles through memory,
steel, smoke, and sound,
leaving old pieces
of us on the ground.
So hold fast
to the light you once knew,
to the child still breathing
somewhere in you.
Before the years harden,
before shadows fall,
hold fast to innocence—
hold fast to it all.


Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Zane Priedīte on Unsplash 
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