Falstaff

Books lined the bottom of an old suitcase I collected when I cleaned out the old place.

I thumbed through the pictures and the postcards and found your familiar face.

I remember you like a warm summer breeze after the rain stopped falling.

I closed my eyes and saw you running down the street after my 72 Dodge and heard your voice calling.

I stopped for a moment to let you jump in and slam the big old dented door.

We drove to the top of the Mount Lemon on a school day and we pretended not to care anymore.

We looked over the horizon from the top of the highway, guessing how far we came.

I held you so tightly and promised I would come back to you again.

I remember your smile, your kisses and your sweet embrace.

I never understood why I never returned to our forgotten place.

Maybe after my enlistment the distance diminished the pain.

And now thirty years after we said goodbye, I wish I could remember your name.

Forgive me for promises that I desperately wanted to keep.

The summer days with you and I racing in the streets.

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Tyrsonswood

Touched a chord............ Thanks man

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charm_quark

truly

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Three quarks for Muster Mark!
Sure he has not got much of a bark
And sure any he has it's all beside the mark.
—James Joyce, Finnegans Wake