Click, clack,
Hear my shoes,
Tap into the past.
With a swish,
I turn into another era.
Through clothes and hair,
I seemingly appear,
To be an illusion of the past,
A ghost, an apparition,
Brought to life.
I may visit ancestors,
Through taste and smell,
With spoon and bowl,
Or deep pot and ladle,
I conjure a portal to ages past.
Through the passage,
I pass along to others,
The secrets and flavors,
Of other times.
Visuals messages,
From those gone,
Some secret and some nostalgic,
Given to the present,
Snapshots of a different world,
And lives lived,
Reflected in paper,
With sonder and style.
unknownclimate 