I've been feeling nostalgic lately

We're grey and vintage blue and coral
Sunsets and rubber boots, flooded fields
Grain bins floating on the beaver pond
Blue sky and clouds and hay bales
Campfires in the overgrown yard
Orange Jones and sour skittles
Warm summer nights, long grass, a generator and Michael Jackson

We are lyrics and love letters sharpied on dusty barn walls
Camp chairs in the straw
Trinkets collected magpie like, and a line of dusty bottles
The dates we drank them scrawled on the labels
A rotting clubhouse
I don't know if we'll go back
If it will still be standing

We never camped there like we planned
But our ghosts are still there, playing
Part of us will be fourteen forever
Sitting in the hayloft, legs dangling out the high doors
Talking through our transition out of innocence
We talked about hard things there
The rope swing behind us, dusty sunlight and wind knifing through
Throwing sticks onto the roof

We were mushrooms and raspberries under the pines
A tire swing on a hill
Secret passwords (inside jokes will never die. Remember the pants?)
Mud fights and sunning on the river
We were river valleys and ferns, the water pump at our favourite campsite
Disbelief at the trees towering straight above us
Fossils and silt cliffs
We muffled both laughter and tears in our pillows
We knew each other's souls

Now we're stumbling on abandoned cabins
Places we used to explore
Blindly feeling our way together
It's the same river, just different bends
We're like the almost abandoned house now
I wonder what it's like there

Take me back to who we used to be
We'll laugh until our bellies hurt again and then just turn to tears