old air

the way old log houses smell

brings me back

to childhood summers

the grey comfort

of timber worn smooth

by generations

now ghosts

trapped in artifacts

not many recognize


the dusty smell of old castles

and stonewalled chapels

with a hint of tar

on the wooden parts

reminds me

of the stony ruins

we weren't supposed to explore

and the old boat

by the lake

where I learned to swim

and never left

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