Like I Wasn’t Even There

Sure, the memories
But, the smell, the taste, the touch,
All still left to make believe
I miss…
The very start
Opening characters, scene one
Greener grass, the bluest skies, salty ocean
That street light at night where I would measure my shadow to the tip of the moon
Those flaked fences, white
A particular damp night sky that I loved and haven’t smelt in a long, long time
Tipped-toed curbs, run past the shop
Yes, my eyes could go blind and I would still make it anyway
Follow the path by memory alone…to my home
Grab a bunch of those crazy flowers along the way
But now, I can only recount
because tomorrow had to come
and now strangers walk about
like I was never even there

13 thoughts on “Like I Wasn’t Even There

    1. Thanks, Scott, it’s a place called Harbour Breton, Newfoundland and Labrador. I’m glad you like it. Was looking through some ole pictures and the poem was the result. Thanks for the comment and happy you popped by. Take care.

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