Bouquets of roses capture my mind, setting it free,
allowing their beautiful scents to roam, smelling
their exquisite perfume on a serene morning of
reminiscence.
Circles of roses drift through my consciousness,
portraying lessons of musical instruments played for
years.
Touching soft petals, feeling their gentle
fragileness as they attach themselves to my heart.
Riding backwards through time on tracks of railroad
cars, visiting edges of time forgotten.
Familiar faces popping up in memories filled with
relatives and ancestors.
A journey of past years brought before me now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem