Memories

We used to visit the riverside village where plum blossoms flew like snow onto the women’s skirts as they walked hand in hand. Those were carefree times, enchantments everywhere that only old friends remember. Those times are gone forever. Today I wander by towers, temples, and city gates, writing poems and renewing my thoughts of you, brushing away the dust. I know you remember, too, the moon on the lake, the willows by the river, and the clouds at the ridge top.