PCH

The highway edges us along the coastline,

Then casts us back into wooded hills,

Where air, perfumed of eucalyptus,

Beats in billows through open car windows,

Filling me with nostalgia for a thought I can't seem to recall.

I long to stay in this particular moment,

Traveling this road for the rest of my days and nights,

Trying to remember where I have smelled these smells,

and seen these sights,

Before

and once again,

and ever more.