The places of the memory

The places of my walking tainted by the presence of my own shadows
And glorified by the memories in them.
All those places full of dust of time, and full of the noise of the past

And now they are full of the ghost of you, the shadow inside the concrete
Yes they are,
Full of you, images of you and pictures of you
And to travel amongst them ust minutes after you left...
It is magic indeed
And takes a breath of me.