The memories of when.

To be isolated –
alone with only
the memories of when,
I had my first bike
and I’d ride
alongside –
just my Dad and I.

Carefree –
with only the wind to
whistle back to me.
Now, I just sit here,
and my mind is just…
Racing…

Time leaps with
double-spacing,
far from crowds
ever-facing.

I miss the days of
dream chasing,
only to be away
from the ones that I love,
from no fault of
mine or theirs,
theirs or mine,
as our presence is no longer
intertwined.

But until then,
I still hold onto
the memories of when.

– A. Brown

Copyright © 2020 A. Brown. All rights reserved.

3 thoughts

Leave a Reply