martes, noviembre 28, 2017

Nostalgia II

Thinking of walking
in the sand
And the way the footprints would get erased
by an errant wave splashing white

forgetting, then
the beach from the dream
the feel of the breeze
the time of the day
the name of the scene

a brief pain,
gut wrenching, but soft
like a caressing wind soon gone
knot raising to the throat
stopping halfway

why am I nostalgic?
what am I remembering?
what did I forget?
it is not raining, so, why-
why are my cheeks wet?

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