This poem is about memories and how they can be triggered by chance experience. I revisited this video, recently and here is the result
Indelible Echoes
A harbour breeze,
a mountain spring,
rain, the scent of heather,
a hazel copse,
freshly cut turf,
crickets in the thatch,
laughing spuds,
sizzling mackerel
and periwinkles,
sand in your toes
and the salty brine
of seaweed,
a sunburst
of glorious colour
in my mind.
Indelible echoes
of a life
tread with memories
without footprints
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If there are no footprints, perhaps it’s because the memories come to us.
I love the word, indelible, because it speaks of memories that can never be erased
People measure others by the ‘footprints’ they leave behind them, but, I believe, people measure themselves by the memories they have