The man heard happy sounds, laughing.
Voices of a time and place he once knew,
A life he lived and loved, and a home
That he could never go back to
Except in his dreams.
Two boys played in the river,
Holding hands and jumping.
The man watched them for a while.
As familiar to them as the grass itself,
They didn’t seem to notice him.
The wind was warm that day,
Yellow and green striped
As it filtered through
The skinny bushes
And the summer grass.
It flowed over the man, the playing boys
And the timeless river.
Always moving on,
Touching places and people
And never turning back.
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