Coming down to it, just around a bend.
About that end.
Unimagined, somehow planned.
Nostalgia on completion.
Sometimes the temperature of the air brings with it recollection. Some part of the season, a range of emotions, the moisture in Johannesburg at 18 when the year was still 99.
How much of it can we keep?
It was all just living.
And the present.
I’ve got you coming back to it too. Like evenings before catching flights. Summer lakeside nights. Like father and son flying kites. Riding bikes down hill.