a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com


Monday, August 13, 2012

I Remember It Well

Sometimes, we don’t remember the details exactly as they really happened. And maybe, after all, the devil really is in the details.

I remember it well,
I said,
and you said
but I did anyway.

you looked so-
no, really, you did.
and I laughed to your telling
as you told about
him and, um…

I remember it well.
we took the five
and arrived
and, well,
you know.

It was hot that day,
your hair long
and let down.
I wore that shirt
you never liked.
and you handed me-
no, really, you did.

well, anyway,
we walked through
the park.
I think mid-afternoon.
-are you certain?

I remember it well.
your perfume tickling
my nose
and that scarf
wild in the breeze
but I thought…
I was so sure.

did we have coffee?
I thought not.
it snowed.
oh, yes-August
of course

did I have the Buick
are you sure?
was your mother-
no, I suppose not

uh huh,
but I did love you,
did I not?
and you me?
of course.
I remember it well.