Memories Held Close

The quiet washing sands of the sea is where I go to be alone with the memories of my soul listening to waves waltzing with the shore far from cluttered cities, filled with closed doors and lonely people whose souls are as painted as their doors My mind, the guardian of each recollection I keep about the passage of time holds court with its weeping shadows that follow me without the sun I pause, to watch a seagull glide to the horizon on warm winds above an endless sea Could that I be gliding on such winds released from the memory of lost loves whose faces haunt the stillness of life's interludes as they never age A curse from my gypsy heart from long ago When no forgiveness was asked or given for each love that was like a falling star scorching the night skies, burning an image in the eyes before disappearing into the darkness To have known such loves felt its joys, its sadness was as holding the birth of a flower's scent opening in the morning's dusk covered in fresh dew that drip upon the tongue alive as thunder in a burning sky and as sensual as a moist first kiss, filled with hunger Whether they remember me is unimportant as I only passed through their lives like a seagull gliding to the horizon vanishing with the setting sun, holding these memories close leaving only my footprints that wash away with the tide 5/1/20