remembrance instead

this Sunday morning
finds Ned's Point
quiet: an oddity,
virtually no wind
(not a good day for sailors),
but bright and sunny,
as autumnal urges
beckon gulls to sleep
standing up,
and the schools of mackerel
take a breather;
I sit at the table,
set just as it was,
with you perched atop,
legs crossed,
your smile entering me,
your laugh, breaking
the silence;
and though the day begs
quiet reflection,
I stick to
remembrance instead.



October 11, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.