My memories echo down the wind swept halls.
They pummel my body, my mind, intoxicating the senses,
I am once again brought back to days long dead.
How easily my mind slips off into it's fanciful reveries and day dreams.
I sit where I always sat, in the classroom with the white walls, gazing outside to watch a passing jay.
I suppose I've come to a fitting end for my long journey, with the many, many times I walked down those wind swept halls, as I will, forever, in my memories.
