Into the Mystic

photo of orange cloudy sky
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com
grief found me today 
through a Van Morrison song
tears as I went about my chores
a flood of memories

dust particles dance about the room
above your collection of vinyl 
each album packed neatly into a tower of milk crates
"Blue," "Kind of Blue," "Lady Sings the Blues,"

a small maroon Buddha keeps your jade plant company 
tiny trinkets hidden amongst the furniture
peek out from behind books and your antique lamp

you loved small things:
animal finger-puppets,
kinder surprise toys,
children

your memory was impeccable:
"Remember the time so and so said such and such on that Thursday in Toronto the summer of '78?"

poached eggs, 
coffee, 
a change purse 
these things just were you

I imagine you now, driving 
fancy-free, with your cap on, in an MG
heading into the the most brilliant of sunsets





 

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