Recurring Dream

An elaborate and winding stair reaches an upper floor
Of a building that holds no great historical significance
Where a reverent hush stills the air
That smells of memories like sun-washed photos
Souvenirs forgotten that remind but never capture
The moments that didn’t feel like they would ever need revisiting
No line, no admission, no ticket stub to betray time or location
Words become bygone necessity last used before the passage back
Along an immeasurable distance and direction
Arrival brings nostalgia at the sights
That might disappear in a blink
When I close my eyes again


Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s