A Tale to Tell About a Time Long Ago

The warmth of the sun carried the wind in my hair,

Always dishevelled.

Always dreaming.

Pastel colored painted ladies,

Naked neighbour,

Dancing in the street.

Because you are a fragment.

A piece of something I once knew,

A rogue radiowave,

A piece of someone I once drew;

A dust particle on a gypsy suitcase;

A storm from another time that’s never been forgotten.