Scent Of A Memory

for my best friend Eloy MAy you rest in a bed of forget-me nots...

 

 

I remember trains
and the sound they made on those nights
lying fearful of that last call

and as March winds near,
I can taste the pain

as my tresses sway;
a fool to think I could run away
from these roses, rekindling

the scent of your memory.

Fourteenth day of February
came and went.

Yes, it's still my favorite day.

I still see you standing here,
holding one white rose behind your back,
your eyes, smiling sunlight

and I fall to my knees
shaking my fist at the stars, they lied
when they said time heals all wounds.

Twelve years after
and my spirit still lies shattered,

waiting to entwine with yours;

your Valentine written on my heart.

 

 

 

~

Reviews

[Adrian K. Smith]

I needed a moment, after reading this, for a cigarette - for a breath - and well I thought a diet Dew; but I am apparently out it would seem. That is a dreadful thing in its own right. Yes, I am rambling a little. This is your review area, not my little blog area. I just needed a moment, though, to state how hard this particular work hit me... and that I needed a moment. There is something about how love's memories can burn their way into the very Universe around us, as they weave themselves into reality - becoming as real, as anything we would call real. The description leaves me to wonder on the parting that took place, and though any parting is full of torment and sorrow - I was actually just reading a study today, where a particular nature of parting simply breaks the heart into smaller pieces than anybody could reasonably fear.

[Adela Muresan]

Wow, this is such a beautiful poem of nostalgia�
I love the way you penned it :) � with sincerity and grace.

A.M.