Feather-light, dust of time's decay,
In memories' grip, we find our way,
Beneath the star-laden sky,
Waves of longing in my mind's eye.
Heady, intoxicating, these recollections,
A solitary figure in life's intersections,
Lost within the fields of golden rye,
Where nostalgia and solitude intertwine.
Each feather, a whisper of days long past,
In the dust, their stories forever cast,
Glimmering stars above, a cosmic sea,
Yet in my head, these waves will be.
Alone, I stand, 'midst the amber sea,
In the rye of memories, just me,
A critical heart, aching to know,
Where did those fleeting moments go?
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