Lingering Presence
Your perfume Permeates the air surrounding Old tooled leather bags Wool sweaters Floral paintings on velvet Hooked rugs Made from woolen clothing-- Scraps that have felt the press of life Transformed into something new. Your things, your memories of love and family. Your sweat is here And the sweat of ancestors Your portrait: sixteen, soft-skinned An honest gleam in your eye Confidence and love, joy in the gift Of your image You feel you and who you are As the humid air makes every scent rich. The fragrance today Stops me, though. You are here. You are not. I am. I am not. I startle at the cry of the blue jay, Somewhat overfed and sassy And bringing me back: Here, here, here...