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...