Sometimes I Return

Just scribbling

“I miss you,” is always first, whispered

and the night’s coolness carries far

accompanying sounds; soft footsteps, my own,

a luring fountain, a bus, a car

I come back every now and then

to the places we would share

Not because I can’t move on

but to remember that kind of care

There’s something about a man

when the truest love has touched his heart

and I know I’ll never be the same again

as if written in stars I can’t quite chart

The streets, some nights, are cold and distant

other nights, it’s just my wish to walk unseen

for I’m not new to its ways and games

I just hate morning memories unclean

Not often do I visit pride, you see

but I come bearing gifts those days

and the space inside is large and generous

beyond the walls, post execution stays

Yes, sometimes I return to our places

because the visions come in clear

and the emptiness is left behind

This, these, the places where we’re near

When I see your smile my night is made

until next, whatever may now pursue

for real time will always be my nemisis

unless I hear your, “I miss you, too.”

Reviews

[Dhaye]

Oh my! Welcome back, A! You are really missed in this place. I miss reading your poems. I also visit your page from time to time checking if you have something posted here. I also post once in a while on my page...some random thoughts and emotions.
Keep writing, my dear.