Hiraeth

What is it that I miss

You ask

I can name a number of things. 

That smell

Of freshly watered plants

That feel 

Of wet mud on your bare feet 

The wind's caress 

On your face. 

Have I felt them really? 

You ask. 

Maybe in another lifetime 

Is all I can say. 

That was home

That feels like home. 

Funny how I have 

never been there.