Forever January

What is this languor that has settled over my heart? This rocking, hushing quiet that pervades my being? In my waking moments I am taken back to the days when the sun didn’t set, when the fires burned by the lake throughout the nightless night. I remember the scent of the tar, the susurrous of the wind through the birch leaves. The birds didn’t sleep — and neither did we. Hand in hand we loped down the hill to the water’s edge to dip our toes into the cool depths.

And when I dream — o! do I dream. No matter how hard I try, some memories simply never fade or die with time. Such are the memories I have of you, of us, sharing our last happy moments together during the time of the midnight sun, in the land I once called home and meant it.