My mind slowly drowns in memories <br />made holy by time. <br />Daylight fades. A gentle breeze <br />scatters a rainbow of leaves. <br /> <br /> <br />Thirty years ago, my eyes <br />were blinded by my vision. <br />I was adrift in a dream, <br />homeless in heaven, wandering <br />constellation to constellation, <br />footsteps leaving no traces. <br /> <br /> <br />Clay pressed cold against my back, <br />the arrogant scent of sycamores <br />mellowed by that of wild mint, <br />the hypnotic song of muddy waters <br />lapping against granite and driftwood, <br />our lips straining towards each other's, <br />and brushing so lightly, as if gossamer. <br /> <br /> <br />Terra firma was your home, flesh <br />and blood your natural elements. <br />Gravity kept your eyes open<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-last-warm-day-in-october/
