The cool comforter wraps around you like the quiet tide
mingling with the scent of freshly cut eucalyptus hanging in the shower its fragrance drifting through the house like a memory unwilling to fade
The white weathered wood raw and splintered with age creaks beneath your feet shaking the whole house as you walk
Outside the wind chimes on the porch whisper songs of the sea their notes carried on the breeze
A candle lit for Ganesh rests above the fireplace its small flame keeps us safe
And the sound of your voice seems so far away as you sing to me while I drift in and out of sleep
The magnolia trees scatter their sweet perfume into the wind and you tell me how they remind you of him
of your first kiss and of a love that once bloomed bright and wild
But now he is gone
All that remains are the magnolias and the dragonflies
As I walk through the courtyard
I see old women sitting alone their memories gathered around them like folded quilt's waiting for someone willing to listen to them
I hear babies crying only to be soothed by the gentle harbor of their mothers' arms
I see stories and lives
twisted and intertwined
Memories
Oh memories
All mine…
1d ago
Jun 4, 2026 at 1:29 PM UTC
The cool comforter wraps around you like the quiet tide
mingling with the scent of freshly cut eucalyptus hanging in the shower its fragrance drifting through the house like a memory unwilling to fade
The white weathered wood raw and splintered with age creaks beneath your feet shaking the whole house as you walk
Outside the wind chimes on the porch whisper songs of the sea their notes carried on the breeze
A candle lit for Ganesh rests above the fireplace its small flame keeps us safe
And the sound of your voice seems so far away as you sing to me while I drift in and out of sleep
The magnolia trees scatter their sweet perfume into the wind and you tell me how they remind you of him
of your first kiss and of a love that once bloomed bright and wild
But now he is gone
All that remains are the magnolias and the dragonflies
As I walk through the courtyard
I see old women sitting alone their memories gathered around them like folded quilt's waiting for someone willing to listen to them
I hear babies crying only to be soothed by the gentle harbor of their mothers' arms
I see stories and lives
twisted and intertwined
Memories
Oh memories
All mine…
