living in a baCkpack (plus 8 luggages)

Another Morning But He Wakes Up with a Different Hangover
 

There is something about how the sound of surf, this morning,

reminds him of his  man-eater

each lapping displaces pages of memories,

of that summer afternoon

on their cottage by the hill

the summer she left

like the windswept leaf that dances by his windowsill

for the first time in years, those memories

refuse to cling on his head like a hangover.

RV Escatron (Oct c2007)