reminiscence Emerging

Sometimes I think about how I wish things were
And nostalgia wraps itself around my brain.

I miss it, even though I don't know it.

Then,
Even though I can only pluck the strings and strum half-songs the guitar

Blisters on my fingertips

And play the same bundle of songs over and over on the piano

If I don't think, I don't stumble on those notes

And imagine book-writing and photographing, music-filming, song-covering and traveling

Impending-wheels reeling

The nostalgia somehow drifts away, inside my brain
And a comfortable anticipation emerges.