I don't remember when, exactly,
But
I do remember it was during those hours
When the sun stretches and spreads it soft light over the sky,
kissing the grass and brushing its golden fingertips over the rooftops;
During the hours when the cool wind gently blows on your face,
telling you it's time to be alive again.

It was at that time I remembered,
A rare moment, really,
Since memories are so easily forgotten just as they are made.
They search every nook and cranny,
Looking for a place
To stay
And stay forever,
Maybe.

On that morning,
Everything came back.
Eyes widened
Mind whirled
And heart stirred
At a memory
I never knew existed.
A memory that had found its way home

I remembered, clearly,
Wind so crisp and cold
The air snapped with the chill.
I remembered, clearly,
Leaves wrapped in dresses of scarlet and gold,
Dancing in the breeze.
I remembered, clearly,
Carpets, soft under my toes,

warm in color and warm in feel.
I remembered, clearly,
Roads blanketed in white
And the earth's heartbeat, slow and steady, asleep soundly.

But the memory ended too soon,
For the taste had passed.
I shoveled in spoonful after spoonful of oatmeal,
sweetened with powdered milk and brown sugar,
Hoping the familiar flavor would come back,
So I could remember again.
Memory's a funny thing,
Because it left its home,
Opened the door,
And traveled down the road.
Never to return again,
Maybe.

For now,
I will try my best to remember.
For who knows?
Memory's a funny thing.
I might even find
The fresh smell of spring and the taste of steamed pilmeni again
In a nice, warm bowl of oatmeal.