all of those times

there is a wild whisper, that's blowing in the wind
it sweeps down from the mountains like a very old friend
it whips my hair about my face and eyes
and though it makes me squint
it brings back all of those memories
and I wonder where they went

all of those old times of laughter and dancing close
all of those old songs we and tiles on a board
all of those old mornings talking, and refilling cups
all of those old times of loving and sharing that I miss most

there is a wild whisper, that's blowing in the wind
it sweeps down from the mountains like a very old friend

it whips my hair about my face and eyes

and though it makes me blue
it brushes up against fantasy 

and dreams no longer true

Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License