Do you know
I often visit that meadow
that beaten path
That shore of the river
Where we used to laugh,
used to paint stories,
used to build castles in the sky
with bricks made of our dreams.
Do you remember
The air was fragrant there,
With the perfume of youth?
There, flowers bloomed and played on our finger tips.
It was the space where we sang and danced
Where we loved,
—-life.
Do you visit there too?
Often?
Alone?
Now there’s no flower there
The wind doesn’t whisper anymore
The air is stagnant
There is only suffocating silence,
with mirage of haunting memories.
Grayscale landscape and an aging river.
But,
Sometimes unexpectedly,
the wind does carry a tune,
a heart wrenching melody of
The days no more.