Ghosts Of Summers Lost Poem by Night Flyer

When dusk comes, I take my walk
Meeting ghosts of Summers lost
Near the lake, they often flock
On the paths, in youth, I crossed.

Breaking waves upon the beach
Bring the winds of evening's blue
Feeling lost and out of reach
On this twilight rendezvous.

Voices calling on the breeze
Past the rocks where I would play
Laughing banter through the trees
Echoes from another day.

How the drifting white sands fly
O'er this barren, windy shore
Like the years that pass me by
Leaving ghosts forevermore.