IF ONLY FOR AN INSTANT
Will I think of you when the wind howls
and waves break white as surrendering hankies,
or will I think of you when the sun breaks clouds
and dances on new leaves, green with childlike
abandon. What is it that brings you into my
thoughts; what senses spark a memory of you.
I thought I saw you yesterday, if only for an instant,
speck glint dust caught in the sunlight, ploughed
rough in the neighbour’s field. You were dressed
like spring, chasing bluebells through tangled
hedgerows, and then you were gone. Again.
You are a fleeting memory, a spark that lingers
and flickers, and survives in the shadows of song.
And I miss you like the day is eternally long.
Prompted by Recursion #25 “A Drowning”.
Written in Vester Aaby Denmark on 26 April ‘13