In the middle of life
On a crowded summer
street
The smoke rising
A huge billowing
cloud
That feeling
I’ve been here before
Rising from within
Like a flood
All encompassing
All pervading
Engulfing me slowly
I am at another place
Where the summer
isn’t so hot
The street isn’t so
full
A mysterious scent
The fragrance of
allure
Of blossoms wilting
In the heat of my
hand
Of a shoulder that
rests
Under my seeking head
A fragrance that
writes
Wordless promises
In white
On the blue of the
skies…
I am an island
Touching life
Yet aloof
The moments flowing
Around me
Beside me
Skimming the surface
But never scratching
A fire that rages
But never warms
Beads of heat on my
brow
But leaving my heart
Stone cold
The lingering sillage
Subsides
Depressed
Like the froth
Of a lager going flat
Until the smoke
Filters through
My unseeing eyes
I see again
Not smoke
Not soft flowing
fragrances
My hands left
Clutching nothingness
Clutching voids
Clutching the might
have beens
Of déjà vu
I’m still standing
At the edge
Of the crowded
boulevard
Wedged
Between
Scents and sounds
From many memories
ago….
MS
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