“N” is for Nostalgia


The ghost of pleasant pasts

She lives in old books and rainy mornings

She always enters softly, unannounced

Most often through my nostrils

But sometimes other orifices

To steer the ship of my mind

Returning me to moments I have lived through at least once

When I arrive, I always find a treasure trove

Of old toys, favorite songs and discontinued snacks

I’m always sure to greet the old spirits

The ones that don’t haunt me anymore

I make sure to never linger too long in those places

That does more harm than good

Though before I leave, I pause

To lie down beside the substance of myself

It brushes my cheek and chuckles lightly

Delighting at everything I’ve become

Poetics & Noticings

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