1963


The smooth, salty air
Blowing off the sea
Reminds me of my sweetheart back in 1963

The beauty of the island
Though it stopped at the beach
Didn’t really matter until 1963

The beating of his heart
Felt as he clung to me
The stillness of that heart
My plea unheard, unseen

How I miss the smell
How I crave the old breeze
I wish I could go back to 1963

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