A place

Something about it...

The smell maybe,
or the people, or maybe
just how they dressed.

I remember pineapple soda,
fresh pineapple, old temples,
and quiet nights out.

Freedom was my drink,
To accompany me
as I explored a
new world.

Quickly was it gone
so all I had left were
the memories, that I
could live out moments.

And memories when
I least expect, as
I walk around town, or
drive home late.

But then I smile
and remember again.