I reminisce upon a scent. I passed by gently.
I looked into memory.
I saw a face.
And raspberry wines, medium rare steaks,
a rose with petals.
Poetry is deadly: It magnifies elements: beauty, travesty, tragedy and love.
We didn’t say, pains.
I felt a grasping, groping walls, looking at a biblic needle.
And Love was threshed; and God was with Mercy;
to kneel, refurbish, aware in parts.
What visitation!
Souls are powerful. How often have we met?
I reminisce upon a gesture. To see it often; to adore it each time.
And it would be what it’s become; and it wouldn’t be if it meant nothing.
To ponder tomorrow.
To plant an oak tree.
Such wildflowers. Such grace.
