There is treasure in the past, buried under layers of time.
There is a morning reflection in a seaside motel mirror
that last saw me when I was 12…..
The meeting with my Past last weekend is still working its voodoo on me.
My night dreams have been filled with an abandoned seaside, the bright colors, the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes still lingering in the air, of the sounds of the wild waves crashing against the shore.
It is walking alongside familiar ghosts.
When I was little, I was always afraid that our car on the Mighty Mouse roller coaster was going to shoot out into the sea….
I was half right.
The Past called on me to come play and I said…
Let me grab my quarters.
I am still damn good at Skee Ball.
The Past was my Teacher this week.
It’s easy to frolic in places that my little self once did.
It’s simply picking up the dance where we left off…
If you could pick one place from your Past to go back to….
where would it be and why?
Whisper in the comments.