I saw that beauty once,
through the window of a passing car,
or perched on the naugahyde chair
at the end of my melamine table.
I heard that beauty once,
heralded by a tinkly bell laugh,
that raised the hair on my arm,
and spoke of joy.
I touched that beauty once,
the electricity lingers
long after the touch became dust,
swirling in my rear view mirror.
I tasted that beauty once,
the saltiness on my tongue,
hinting at cinnamon and cloves,
and idle Summer sweetness.
I smelled that beauty once,
stale cigarettes and open fires,
kelp baking in the sun,
and patchouli oiled gladness.
I sense that beauty still,
in the quiet longing silence,
that stirs my senses,
to a symphony of memories.
ml ’25
(Original image by Adina Voicu – Pixabay)