Walking the Streets of Liverpool

The salt in the air is the same as I knew. The worn wooden

porches, a faded sea blue. The gulls still cry out the

same sharp refrain. Feels like I'm twenty something again. A ghost in the fog rolling

off of the bay. Some things are gone, but some things

will stay. And I'm walking the streets of Liverpool. Under a sky

I remember from school. The years fall away, the memories pool.

Just walking the streets of Liverpool. Down on Main Street,

the old storefronts gleam. Chasing the fragments of a half-forgotten dream.