Nostalgia

Some years ago it had snowed for a long, long time

and the very next day wrapped up in our laughter we built snowmen, 

sculpted snow forts and sketched snow angels too…

. . . . .

Bits of an earlier time remain

almost inseparable from who you are now

yet your story, once so particular,

lessens – pieces of it, in unexpected ways.

. . . . .

In time, when we are born

we inherit pleasurable landscapes

where love opens in generous doses

with a certain depth of permanence

and the high-spirited heart balances

full of form within the benevolent

whirlwind glow of childhood.

. . . . .

Pieces of it become an unforgetting part of her, 

as she follows the slither of the sleigh’s tracks still, 

being as she was then, breathing that same breath, 

embraced in earlier imprints, sensing their novelty

where almost she whispers, nothing’s changed.