As the wheels move, I reminisce,

About tiny raindrops racing by window panes;

And about the petrichor of the first rains of July,

As the dust from the roads fly;

I remember the many I knew,

And the less I know of now,

And the many who left ;

The road I had to walk on.

As the bus rumbles and

The driver gives a cough,

I remember how whistles were blown

By boys of ten through toffee wrappers,

On my eleventh birthday

As I see the familiar huge buildings,

Yellowed and dulled with age

I remember how quietly,

I used to merge with the walls; 

Of the rooms where unfamiliar families gathered,

They are unfamiliar even today (by the way)

I remember as I see,

The garbage bins turned over 

How that quiet seeped into my bones,

And the noises of the happy screams;

Faded away into the mist,

Of the years I grew up.