Sunday, July 5, 2015

No Word

It was a peculiar sort of pink.

The sort that's grey and pale and blue, reflecting a sun that's dozing on the job.

Not quite twilight.

Too alive to be dusk.

A wisp in the air.

And the water.

The water was glass. Agloss.

There was a freshness in the air, waiting for me.

Like the moment just before
a new kiss, pressing forward, eyes closed.

I was enchanted by this night and its smell of hickory and summertime and I would remember it forever, never quite finidng the word to capture its magic.

Better there was no word to say this was among the last of the days we would all be together, so sweet, so young. We were all growing up too fast.

And now, as then, I am in my favorites floating on the water, beneath the stars and sparkles, remembering that night.

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