Memory is nothing but
a compound
a distillation
an essence
a coming together
seeping together
staying together
of everything
that the eyes drank
the skin tasted
the breath sang
the soul heard and never
forgot
and that is why
when breeze mixes with rain
you suddenly smell pine needles
and distant snow
and damp roses
and drops of dew
on wild grass…
right in the middle of
a traffic jammed city street..