A warm flush of air
triggers our memories
of when we were young.
The youthful memories
we stored away
for those rainy days.
From the school yards
to other adventure habitats.
We visit them again
for a few moments,
renewing our glory days
before the world changed us.
The carefree days of youth
when our world was perfect.
Long before the imperfections
spoiled our dreams
and reality changed us
and our life forever.
28 October 2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem