Paths we travel often
Lead to unexpected memories,
Places we have walked before,
Reminders of a previous life.
Often it is sights, sounds or smells,
Hearing a song or petting a dog.
Sometimes it is a thing there all along,
Unnoticed or overlooked too long;
Like that moment walking in the sand,
And looking down to find his feet
In place of my own –
And mine being used by my son.
Written for the We Write Poems prompt #87.