Nostalgia Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Nostalgia permeating my mind through a distant voice,
whispering into the wind of my being.
Softly bringing all events together so I may begin to
be lifted into spires of intensity.
Collecting every motion and idea, creating movement
towards opposite shores of existence, leaving all of
my being on deserted waves, tossing me about.
Reaching into depths of a crate filled with dynamite,
ready to explode into a million shards of glass on
sands this side of horizons.
Little known episodes, beginning over again every time
another song is played out loud.