The places I had traveled vignetted in front of my eyes, frame by frame, those streams, those mountains, that street I'd love to get lost again in, that mystery girl, those eyes that hold me even today.
The dark clouds that I had seen silhouetting the clear skies, I want to see them rain; The village
just behind that river, I want to ferry in that last boat I missed that day; those words that were broken because of an airport announcement, I want them to be complete, I want to listen; the food that I could not taste that day I want to have it for the old lady, for her love on the platter.
For the miles I had covered, my shoe strings are still strong, my sole(soul) still not weathered enough, some space still in my image folder, some things
yet to learn, some travels
yet for soul.
My backpack, the lens, my memory card, my map, that power nap, they lay
as frozen
as me.
The flowers I loved so much, today I cannot touch, for I was not myself, for I was not traveling, for Alas, I was NOT alive, I am not, for I
am frozen.
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This post has been written and shared for the series 'Five Sentence Fiction'.
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