Wind

Just you honey?

His patronizing tone echoes in my ears as I watch him gather a glass and silverware from the empty place across from me.

A warm breeze sweeps through the patio turning the pages of the book I brought along for show.

A Cape Hatteras morning in the middle of Salt Lake City,

carrying with it the scents of men I have loved

or something like love.

I close my eyes and inhale.

Coconut

Sawdust

Cologne

Sweat

Opening my eyes to the fresh scents of sticky sweet maple, coffee and toasted oats,

I pick up a spoon.

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

these are wonderful descriptive images you have conjured in this poem. Thank you for sharing your work.