Those were the days, I think:

Remember them?
There were grasses and lawns
or
streets and fences
or
pirates, poplars
and ourselves.

Nostalgia is life's way of smoothing the bumps from memory lane.

After a time, you forget the hurts, the insignificant slights, the twinges of pain. You are left with the happy, the glow. The details don't matter much when you're happy. They are just background, soft and pleasant complements. When we were young and back in the days and it used to be fine. It used to be less than fine, but fine is how we will remember it.


For a moment,
the past transformed;
Your love was deliciously warm.


Poetry in Motion at Poetry.com
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