I return to
The darkened pines against a hazy sky,
The soft cull of ravens,
The street lights
Sometimes blurred
Most times clear.
I return to
The sidewalk reservoirs,
Stiletto heels, and a winter skirt.
I am lifted up, up---
Brought down to meet lips.
I return to
The much longed for
Pungency of azaleas,
The wildness of hippie roses,
And the distant clouds of patchouli.
Colorful bicycles
Reinvented from vintage,
A bench enclosed by breezes,
And plant-life primordial.
Wind chimes bring me back
To a place closer to home.

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