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Sep 2018
the colour of the place
is what I remember
the scent of the laughter
the echo of the sweet wine
on the green
on your breath
in that long moment in time
and whilst I expect I have that photo
somewhere
you rise like a mist
unbidden
unexpected
as vivid
as strong
as clear
as that summer
Memories that sneak up on you can be overwhelming
Steve Page
Written by
Steve Page  62/M/London, U.K.
(62/M/London, U.K.)   
465
     ---, PoetryJournal and Keith Wilson
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