Yesterdays Whispers

Something new from me, first for a long time. Hope it was worth the effort.

I was never winter’s man.

Clothes so drab,

sea too cold, the endless rain.

Somewhere down the road

the sun was stealing in from the east

bringing winter’s last gasp.

I climbed up on its shoulders

looking for a new dawn.

The changing of the seasons is at hand.

Old men’s memories

bone dry with the telling,

line the road to summer.

They speak of darkness,

unrelenting cold

and yesterday’s whispers.

Secrets passed down

to temptation’s doorstep,

of times long gone.

Sepia tinted yesteryears,

when all dreams were possible.

Songs were bold, and we all knew the words.