Déjà vu

Passing lines of villas in blue
One open red door, déjà vu
When and why did I last come here?
The courtyard where gnarled trees grew

A sun kissed bench, I had sat there
Colours and scents were everywhere
Limestone walls, paints that peel and flake
Walk on dry leaves and loose all care

I hear the dulcimers’ faint shake
Echo through the vast rooms and make
Me linger next, near the fountain
Each droplet, a memory break

When can I go back once again?
I keep coming back to regain
An elusive idea, a pain
And relive it more, once again

 ©2014 April
Lalarukh Lasharie


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