Wind kissed quilts on the clothesline
clank of the juicy raspberries on the tongue
sishsashay of the smoke from the home furnace
i long for the thud of sunlight on the windowpanes.
Give me my yesterday. I am lonely for it.
April shall borrow the little bit of March
still basking in the February sun.
The front porch of my house back home
i long for the smell of those lost days.
Give me the time i spent. I am alone only for it.