I’ve almost forgotten how
the crisp autumn air felt
when you pushed your fingers
in my hair,
the flat yellow eye of the sun
glaring through the windshield,
the musky scent of your
perfectly pressed trousers,
the high shine on your black shoes.
I’ve almost forgotten the rhythmic
squeak of rusty springs at
the shifting of weight, the sharp
intake of breath,
the sudden lapse of movement.
I’ve almost forgotten you.
Charlotte Hamrick 
Remarkable how we tend to memorise the details. To me they seem to be the hooks to which the whole mesh of life behind us is attached. Lovely piece : )
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Ah, the feeling of a slipping memory. Nice
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this is heavy with emotion…when you start to lose the detail…and forget someone…i guess in some cases not a bad thing but others, can be so hard…
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This is a poem rich with feeling, a poem of remembrance of things almost forgotten and perhaps someday really will be…… Fine writing here.
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This is not a poem I will be forgetting. It has a nice soft, but solid grip of remembrance and gives me pause to think of times past. Beautiful.
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oh wow…these are the moments we soak the other up more intensely than ever before…isn’t it..
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Poignant, intense–made so my crisp details
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A very poignant and sensual poem. k.
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A poignant piece of writing, Charlotte. Time passes, but we do hold on to certain memories, don’t we?
Pamela
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Thanks for your comments, everyone!
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