down Butcher rd

it will seem slow, adrift. a fast, sentimental urge to bring forth what was past, in good form. roads driven heavily upon, as memories seasoned each pavement crack.

but when we recollect..

it will seem slow. deriving the inner soul of each and smelling, tasting the certainty of what lies beneath. the moments leading up to which, the melody plays it’s pleasant tune, over and over…

but it will be slow, damp and cold, empty yet fulfilled; making each childhood memory, sweet.


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wayfarer*health nut*nationally certified fitness coach*writer !

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