Somewhere along the banks of overlapping memories
A single event exists, waiting to be recalled.
Somewhere, obscured by the phone numbers of long-forgotten childhood friends,
A feeling of excitement discovering cloud figures aches to be felt again.
Somewhere among the pictures reeling and rolling within
A single cel patiently awaits its own screen time.
Someday all that is old will be at the forefront and today will be somewhere else, lost forever.
[Go somewhere at Sunday Scribblings.]