Mal du Pays

Let me live in yesterday,
when the untamed land was as spacious as the sea,
as terrifying as it was inviting;
let me live in the days of possibility,
when all that is was yet to come.

Let me live in yesterday,
with a horse-drawn plough
and toilets outdoors;
let me live when normal was necessary
and necessity a great beauty.

Let me live in yesterday,
in the wide-eyed wonder of innovation,
of first flights and first test drives;
let me live when women dared greatly,
and men did the same.

Let me live in yesterday,
in the dawn of the cocktail party,
revel in a sound with more soul than structure;
let me live in Fitzgerald’s fairy tale,
or near Chanel’s first store-front.

Let me live in yesterday,
with pastel-colored cars
and picket-fence dreams;
let me live in the light
of the evening’s rising moon,
when we forgot and remembered how to be.

Let me live in yesterday,
when midnights were full of magic,
and tomorrow still held hope’s promises;
let me live in last night’s embrace
and the once adoring expression in your eyes;
let me slip into sleep in the peaceful knowing
of your present and unwavering affection;
let me live in bygone days once more.

If I never make it Home again,
at least let me live in the in-between
of almost, before time has had a chance to decay
what today has already begun to slip away.

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