On an early morning stroll,
Walking under trees in dappled sunlight.
In ten years, this path would again render the same imagery.
The crunchy feel of sycamore leaves underfoot;
The buckled sidewalks because of meandering roots;
The scent of flowers reaches my nostrils (always searching for sage or lavender);
The breeze almost giving me goosebumps, (wanting to reach my destination).
I remember how alive my senses are
Even at this odd combination,
The imagery recalls images of you.
12 October 2018
