I left my name on a stone by the river,
but the water was not kind.
It carried me to the mouths of strangers,
who spoke of love like a passing storm.

I was a shadow on the wall of a house
that forgot my laughter.
I was a bird in a sky
that did not know my wings.

If I return, will the olive trees know me?
Will the earth remember
the weight of my footsteps,
or will I be just another story
the wind refuses to hold?