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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Going Places

What if, going away
I found a place I never left?
Found a street where the windows talked,
the trees grown old were young,
and I felt childhood
walking in my shoes.
The smell of bread I never tasted,
and names,
just beyond my hearing,
calling out,
wanting to be remembered.

And I could not hear the names,
but lips stroked mine like wet mist,
hands touched my own without clasping,
and somewhere
a strange love possessed me.
A terrible odyssey,
an ache deeper than the well
in my heart,
time turned inside out,
and gates opening and closing.

What if?
Is there such a place?
On a beach of shells?
I grew up by a shore.
Saw into the heavens,
all my life,
an ocean,
even in the smallest things.
I do not wish to forget what I love.
I do not wish to forget,
and find places where too late,
I remember
what’s forever gone.

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