Unearthing Yesterday

The scent of rain on hot asphalt, unearths a ghost of summers past. Barefoot on sun-baked concrete, a phantom echo of laughter bounces off brick walls that no longer stand. A melody drifts from a distant radio, a tune I haven't heard in years, and suddenly I'm sixteen again, awkward and full of yearning, leaning against a chain-link fence, watching the world unfold like a hesitant flower. The faces flicker, imperfectly recalled, etched with the sharp lines of time's passage, some vanished entirely, leaving only a hollow space where their voices used to be. It's not a sadness that consumes, but a gentle tug, a recognition of moments lived, indelible imprints on the soul. A bittersweet ache, this nostalgia, a tender holding of what was, knowing it can never truly be again, yet grateful for the echoes that still whisper in the quiet corners of my mind, a reminder of the vibrant tapestry of then woven into the fabric of now. ©bfa042925