Orchestra of Memories

Sprinklers on the wilted grass, 

Do you remember the day

We ran through them. 

Our clothes were soaked, 

Cold spray meeting bare feet, 

We shivered in the sun. 

There’s music to the memories, 

Some melancholy, ghostly orchestra 

Playing beneath the earth. 

Violin strings like slow, sad tears, and 

Days in the sun melting like guitar chords. 

Persistent drums in the footsteps 

Of running children, 

Fingers running across harp strings 

Like so many birds taking flight, 

Winged phalanxes stark against the twilight sky. 

Piano keys plinking like raindrops 

On the windshield at night, 

Dragging patterns across the glass. 

On and on, 

A spectral concert of memories echoing 

Across the flat notes of the future.