As they drove the last few miles, the wind grew warmer

And he closed his eyes, fixing his mind on that evening

When they celebrated with a party

Everyone was there that night, alive and well

Taking joy in each others’ company

Never thinking that things would change so much

That fixed point in his head was where he ran to

When the days were cold and bare

Perhaps he repainted the colors every time he visited

But it was his to do as he wished,

For there he was truly, truly happy,

That one perfect night before his world crumbled

And turned to dust.

 

bobby stevenson 2017

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