Remember When

These nights seem like a dream to me.

Summer;

Sunsets;

Shady trees.

When I'm old,

 I will feel that breeze.

 I'll see the blue,

and look back at me.

And how I was.

 Sweet memories.

Those nights beneath the bridge,

  us three.

Reviews

[Quill]

well, there nothing like good old nostalgia, it's a pretty lovely poem