When I long once more for
yesterday,
What illusion of it do I
miss?
Is it death of youth I
find I mourn…
Little else is worth a
backward glance.
I allow my mind to surf
the pass,
Ignoring the pitfalls
waiting there,
The memory of the tidal
waves
I rode while living
yesterday.
And yet...what is this
melancholy,
I have when traveling
back in time,
What in my pass I want
recovered…
Could it really be just
youth I miss?
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