Nostalgia
Cool autumn air breathed deeply in
Now breeds a growing warmth within,
Exciting ancient bygone dreams
To flash in sudden colored scenes
Long walks once shared on distant roads
Become infused with winter’s chill,
And I can feel the wood-filled stove,
Still crackling as I lie there on the sill
The tender tones of well-played strings
Pulse through the creaking wooden floors —
Entwining happy high-pitched notes
With mournful melancholy drones
But as I breathe again, these scenes depart;
Their many short-lived colors trail away,
And I am left reflecting in the dark
On lives which I no longer am a part.
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