
I have been meaning to write to you.
There’s so much to share.
I don’t even know where to begin.
Where are you now?
I picture you on your boat, the rolling seas mocking your exuberance.
My patients often admonish me, “don’t get old!“ as if I can stop time taking space across my face.
You know what I have seen?
The old, they count backwards: “where they’ve been, what they’ve done.”.
They often live life in reverse “how once upon a time, they did or saw, or wished or hoped”.
The old, they have just a past that lingers and whispers ever so often.
There is no remedy unless one rides bareback across the dew of mornings.
I miss you still.
I await the moment you’ll be near when I could rest on your shoulder to share such tales.
Until next time, my summertime!
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