Nostalgia

The bench has a few more scrapes and scratches

the chair

once strong

wobbles under your weight

conversation pours

like the wine from the bottle

you sink into its depths

and idly chat of now

until then kindles

and eagerly you expose the belongings of the past

lift them one by one into the light of the warm sun

and coax them to life with words

thirsting for the homeland of those glossy days