Come back
to the moment.
Which one?

Yesterday,
the day before—
the sun was always brighter,
remember?

Come back
to the moment.
When?

Years ago,
I don’t even know.
The grass is greener
in memory than in the soil.

Come back
to the moment
when my mind saw a world
pristine and unraveled,
ready to be walked.

Please, come back,
little boy I once was.
Come back to the summer scent
on your skin,
and the raspberry taste
on your lips.

Yes—then.

Come back,
but don’t stay.


[Another recurrence of The Unwritten—spilled as art.
Raw expressions from an overwhelmed mind, and a trickster heart.]