I can’t shake this feeling
I’ve been here before,
walked these paths
beneath these trees,

sat on this very lawn.

I tingle, pausing every few feet
like I’m getting reacquainted
with an old friend.
Centuries calling and

decades of sensory input

filter through my skin,
the longing of birds and tree frogs,
wind brushing my face,
scent of sweet hay on the air.

I stand surrounded by buildings

I’ve never actually seen, but
memories press into me,
a feeling of familiarity,
a connection,
a moment I’m sure

I know this place.