Bayjà Vu

Long ago I dreamed this bay

Summer light, small boat beneath our hands

You were there, close, laughing

The world shrank to water and warmth

Every splash, every turn

Carried the quiet certainty

Of someone who knew me

Like I knew them

Some places keep a memory

Even after it fades

I remember heat on our skin

The way daylight danced across the waves

The bay cradled us, a secret room

Where nothing else existed

Now the bay is cold, almost silent

Sparse snow drifts in muted light

Water like glass, dark beneath the sky

Trees stand like watchful sentinels

Air sharp, almost spectral

I almost can’t believe my eyes

The shoreline, the curve, the mirrored water—

It’s the place from my dream

Déjà vu beneath winter’s hush

Some truths lie hidden in frost

Some wait until the world grows still

I remember summer, warmth, your hand

Now ice bites through my coat

Bay keeps the old curve, mirrored water

But we are strangers in its shadow

Dreams never die; they linger

Like ghosts beneath iron skies

Maybe the bay holds both worlds alive

Our small craft drifting, sunlight and snow

Maybe it keeps magic and memory

Waiting for someone to notice

We never imagined the past

But it imagined us

Summer heat and winter gray

Laughter and silence, side by side

You only exist in dreams now

Bay lingers, patient, eternal

B’éjà Vu