Songs are like tattoos
They etch the mind with memory,
Of sound, taste,
smell, sight, and Touch,
And sixth sense that stays behind,
And like a record pops and crackles with the memory of a moment
Long gone,
But fresh to a part of the mind,
That reignites associated thought and feeling,
And tumbles us back into a younger you,
I have songs in mind that bring back a time
Of mixed discs and naivete
Of open rides and wilderness,
Of aroma of coffee and tea,
Of sounds of hopeful revolutionaries,
With flowers in their hair,
Memories and wishes mingle,
And dance,
With imagination filling in
The places we left open
She of Letters 