Sunday, May 17, 2020

the breaking hold

Like a drifting breeze you passed out of my day.
Remaining still, I have the pictures, the scent, the stirring of the air in passing
yet I cannot hold on to you.
As if passing on a street and the scent of lavender wafts,
disturbing some long lost memory and
turning, I look for it, just out of the grasp of the countenance.
For the briefest moment the tendrils of some pleasant thing gently
and quietly waft across face, enough to feel but not enough to see.
And there I stand, mildly puzzled as I feel that sensation drifting away.
Then I turn, walking on my way. 
Content, but carrying a silent sadness and longing
that I feel but do not comprehend,
knowing some deep and wonderful thing was there and has gone,
and I, the broken, able only to brush against the quietest awareness before it slips away from me.
a single, confused tear falls as I walk along
longing to hold on to it
knowing it will fade, will it or no.

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