Closer

		The houses are moving closer to each other, the path to childhood starts to overgrow, I'm peeking from afar, no thoughts to hurt... I leaf through a memory with awe and slow walk through the streets, the way I've done it in the past, I'm getting closer to the sea, and breathe more freely, how alive my feelings, all memorable meetings I'm listening and see... the Duke still waiting to provide the tour de luxe, and meet and greet by shooting a cannon, and Pushkin grateful for an inspired moment, still shows back to home across the street... where white acacia has bloomed, and air been filled with poetry and music, I've met my muse, I flew with joy, I see it now closer to amusing...

Image credit: ukraineplaces.com