The air feels heavier here,
thick with whispers of what was.
Each step stirs the dust of old laughter,
fragments of a voice,
a smile suspended in time.

Leaves curl around forgotten paths,
their rustling a language I used to know.
Faces appear in the corners of my vision,
familiar yet unreachable,
as if they too are caught in the haze.

I pass a tree that once held secrets,
its bark scarred with initials
that have outlived their meaning.
A swing sways lightly,
though no one pushes it now.

Memory bends and shifts,
turning sharp edges soft,
etching joy and ache in equal measure.
I walk on,
carrying the weight of it all,
but somehow,lighter.