Tag: poet

Winds and Memories

This familiar wind

Hot and dry

Carrying pieces of my old self

As it hurries by

And smells that no longer exist

Perfumes no money could buy

This familiar wind

Carries pieces of my old river

Euphrates

Reminding me of nights spent together

Eating ice cream

Watching the candles light up the stream

Making wishes

Dreaming a dream

This wind passes much too quick

And I rush looking for a jar

Or a bottle

I want to save you

For my selfish reasons

And trap you

Like the memories that trap me

In a place that I no longer know

If it still exists

If it could resist

The bombings and the shootings on a small town

How could you, wind, turn this around

And take me to a moment of peace

As I float

Another piece

Of history

That no one remembers

Organic matter

That’s easily recycled

Easily blended

Easily camouflaged

Between the wind and the sand

I reach out my hand

As if to hold yours

My old self

You did good

You escaped that neighborhood

Where no child, or adult

Was safe

Where bombs did not discriminate

Stuck between love and hate

You soared far

And maybe you have the winds to thank

Or a God somewhere

Watching a dreaming child

And allowing her to yet dream

Oh how these dreams have changed

How your life has changed

Old self

You did great