Past life

What I’d give to go back to this:

Late night visits to the nearby konbini.
The crunchy feel underfoot of ice and snow.
The orange halogen street lamps - it’s a mood.
Making angels in the snow, for the very first time.
Waiting by the cold countryside road, for our bus.
Building our first snowman, without knowing how.
Watching the silver sun bust through the pine forest.
Soothing onigiris and comforting ramen, on a cold day.
Tucking in his scarf, again and again. To keep him warm.
Watching the first snow fall, celebrating winter’s coming.

Japan.

It’s not a memory, it’s a past life.