three sixty five.

can you remember
what yesterday was like?
in sepia snapshots
there was the sun
and the salty tang of
calming ocean surf
or was it the river that
we sailed through in a
boat, and baits and fish and
secrets and snares.
we fall asleep to
the rhythmic lull of
absent-minded spooks and caricatures
of those behind the celluloid screen.
there was whatshisname and
him and her and them and they
and pretty pictures
candid and posed
to capture the little essences
of the days that were.


. arigato .