aefenglommung (aefenglommung) wrote,

Where are the snows of yesteryear?

I took a short trip this afternoon to a place that was once the most special of all places for me, to remember an old friend and a moment we once shared there. Alas, my friend is gone and he will return no more. Hwær cwom mago?

And though I can return whenever I will, and remember as sharply today as I did then, the years have rolled over me as well; meanwhile, that most special of places is long despoiled, the traces of the place I knew barely findable. To Cuivienen there is no returning.
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