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The Ever Blowing Breeze MAG
Callused hands caress a wrinkled cheek,
I lean forward on my bed; bones seem
to creak.
A relic lies on my bedside, left by someone who cares.
A long forgotten photo. A child's face stares
Back up at me, and in shock I freeze
As I remember that I forgot that ever-
blowing breeze.
The dust swirls around the neglected frame,
The child's face, the backdrop, a forgotten name,
I've let go of my past, left it far away,
Untouched, abandoned, until today,
Because I have forgotten the memories
Of childhood, of life, of that ever-blowing breeze.
It was there that I was dropped to from
the skies,
The sacred air carried my infantile cries,
Scarred knees are redolent of the innocence lost there,
The wood, the stones, the sun's blazing glare
The shade from the endless sky of trees
And the goose bumps raised by the
ever-blowing breeze.
I want to smell once more the sweet scent
of rain,
I want to listen for the rumbles of the
passing train,
To feel the crunch of pebbles under my
bare feet,
To run and run until my lungs accept defeat.
I want to hear again the buzz of the bees,
And be caressed and kissed by the
ever-blowing breeze.
The images are fading, like water on the damp ground
In the chaos of my mind, they are drowned
In vain, I pull them, I imagine, I try
But I see naught but nought, in my
mind's eye.
I think I've lost forever my sweet memories,
When from the still air, once more, I feel
the breeze.
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