Postcards
When I have visited a place
I can go home and see its face.
Every detail, every line
reappears inside my mind.
The small to largest part
is engraved upon my heart.
Museum, farm or fair,
you can bet I am still there.
Caught up in this Déjà vu,
with feelings fresh as morning dew,
are picture postcards of the brain
that I’ll visit once again.
There’s no need to close my eyes.
They flash buy in vistas live…
the trees, the fields, the land
the lights, the town, the sand.
They are with me now and then
like a close and welcomed friend,
mind-scenes of travels far and near,
visions that now have come so clear.
As the passing years grow dowdy
may the spirits not grow cloudy
always bringing on a smile
recalling every golden mile.
4/21/2021
Copyright © Janis Thompson | Year Posted 2021
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