The dream.

Just talk,
taking a walk.
As it was, down the lanes
of shared memories.
Squat here and count out the shells and pebbles
from some forgotten beach.
All the trinkets found over time,
piling up and gathering rust.
Old post cards from distant places,
photographs of once familiar faces.
The grass is green and sky is sunny,
The flowers nod their heads in taciturn and unlamented charm.
You are there and so am I,
just taking a walk as the world goes by.