Memories

I remember the song, singing of all the trees, which lent this land their shadow once

I remember the sparrows, telling the myth of spring to all the trees, paralized by the drought

I remember a gentle wind, singing tales of a free sky to the sparrows, lost in the long lasting gap between winter and spring

I even remeber your voice, humming every last bit of any lost dream in the wind, which you could find somewhere on the barren land