All the people and colors move by.
Life poured down streets and tiny brick
Sidewalks rubbed with decades of shoes.
The aroma of yesterday and tomorrow
Filled the airstream carried by the traffic
From a vendor a block down.  Gyros.
Every-so-often I like to come into the city
To see how people act around other people.
It keeps me sane and washes from me
Big land’s disconnect. I recall, with every
Memory trigger that shoots off and cracks
The things I have not thought of since
My last trip here. I think to myself why?
Memory and time, occasionally, don’t mix,
But time needs memory to be remembered
And memory needs time to exist…
I suddenly thought of you, though—
That time you told me that news and I
Ran off for a year and some months.
You called to say you were sorry—
You even wrote me a letter, but I was gone.
Your call the other day was nice.
It reminded me why I am the way I am,
And you are the way you are, and why
We aren’t together, and why I enjoy spending
Days and days alone on old barrier islands
To spear fish and make camp in the sand.