Close up,

I may seem scary.

But I’m harmless. …

Pictures,

Often create feelings,

That tend to mislead. …

The colors and taste,

Equally appeal.

Like my every day, …

Growing up we played,

In the neighborhood streets.

Times have changed. …

Sometimes for days,

It doesn’t rain.

The grass turns yellow, …

Some doors I walk by.

They don’t speak to me,

And I don’t know why. …

Cobblestone paths,

Last many lifetimes.

Like olden stories, …

Their ashes were planted,

Beneath a young olive tree.

I wonder if they feel him, …

Swimming,

On a hot summer day.

Thoughts flow, …

The circle of life,

Contains many colors.

But some, …

In my mind,

I travel across foreign lands.

Places, …

The waves,

Have washed away,

Some of my memories. …

Eyes often speak,

What a heart feels.

But not everyone can see, …

Walking along dirt paths.

Going down memory lane,

Of a long ago past. …

Days passing by,

As dreams waver,

In turbulent waters, …

I crave a home,

Far from the world.

No one around, …

Sharp bright colors,

No longer appeal.

It is the vague, …

I may be old,

Rusted and wound up,

But I will not droop, …

Yesterday,

I stopped by the trees,

To listen to them speak. …

Traditions,

Come in many forms.

Even those, …