Often I find my thoughts
Subjected to microscope
Of my own history with you –
Pastel walls surround Me,
on the corner table with metal chairs,
next to the only window in the cafe,
I see under the natural light,
Across the road I see you,
throwing smiles at everyone
picking flowers and coffee
I follow your path to me
One more time or last, I wonder;
My feet lead me here, again
even with a new name and address
memories refuse to leave me,
this window, this corner, our breakup
Inspired by NaPoWriMo day 2 & Linked to Open Link Night @ Dverse
A wonderful and evocative poem. I’m your newest follower.
Nice line: “throwing smiles at everyone” Those memories don’t seem to leave.
strange how we hang on when certain things are already gone…
Nicely done! The ending was surprising. π I enjoyed this, though.
I feel the sweet agony of revisiting places imprinted with memories.