way back when
the days’ end
was marked with coming home
to calming soul that was you

back when
a hint of your scent
wafting in the air
was enough to keep me
wanting for more

way back when
everything you wrote
was love letters meant for me
words tied in bow
presented on a purple page

back then,
the night hummed a melody
more beautiful than the sea’s

all we have left
is a piece of memory
we hide beneath
dying trees


written for a to z challenge. my theme: “senses”

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved


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