Water Mill

Mixing water with my memories.
Every drop reflects a picture from the past.

Shot #1 - my Daddy's face.
My hand in his hand.
All my memoirs tied up to that place.
Where I made my first step, took my first stand.

Shot #2 - my first kiss.
As gentle and deep
As a favorite song you will always miss
But will never hear again, indeed.

Shot #3 - my last day at home.
Is it a drop of water from water mill or my tear?
Yesterday I was dancing at my prom.
Tomorrow the plane will tear this last bond.

Water mill...
Mixing water with my memories.
Every drop has a little story of its own
Invisible to everyone but me.