Remembrance Of Things Past

it’s a windy evening in Sombresville

monsoon shaded by dark clouds in the sky

hairs pushed from eyes, skirts flowing fluid

my feet numb but moving as the wind pushes me by

a child walks alongside me

her soaring locks mirroring my own

and face echoing my heavy smile

white eyes pearly shone

this is a new feeling

yet feels old, old as day

whirlwinds of words forming, officious

reminding me of what we used to say

what we used to say of moments

that took us in the fly

a plethora of emotions, core memories

leaving me in a quandary, pacified

in some moments lie giggles sanguine

and in some, snakes worthy of reprieve

feelings that cause more pain than remedy

some thoughts lost to those who grieve

on that windy evening I felt

a puerile longing for the time

the time amicable arms wrapped around me

and a trust on which I could bet my every dime

a wrinkle in the continuum

a dip, if I may

where humorous words nurtured a grin

on my balcony of life a sunny ray

standing there in the blowing breeze

every muscle on my face alert

and the muscle within my skull, racing

and my feet digging into the dirt

standing there, the things I think

a wily self remembering that which was not

pondering - of which I am a virtuoso

fleeting glances that I lost but I sought

one could say that what was in my head

was a tirade designed to ache

vitriolic, truculent and stolid, the thinkers would call it

my that would be a mistake