A placemat folded stuck in the back of my date book is found
The Last Summer
I take my coffee and sit at the small table outside the cafe. The spring tulips in the pot in front of me have been replaced by the more tolerant marigolds of summer. I take a satisfy drink from my cup, losing myself for a moment in the patterns of cream floating on top. The warmth of the day and the coolness of the wind blessedly swirl around me. Slowly the sounds of the city begin to fade.
Fragmented memories of a childhood long lost float on the breeze of an early summer wind, the earthy smell of fresh turned dirt caress my senses and beg me to play like a child with no consequences.
Glimpses of the past float by like shimmering dust reveled by a ray of light from the warm afternoon sun through a closed window. Adolescent awakening sparkle between clarity and hushed whispers under starlight. Forgotten are all promises given. Mother earth calls and a young woman can not resist.
I smell the crisp clean scent of leaves and wood after the late afternoon shower and it brings an unwitting sense of peace to my young heart. I watch the rain drop like diamonds off the last of the pink frosted petals. The cherry blossoms brought to life by rain drift down and caress my face like an unknown lover.
I gaze through the branches, lying on a cool blanket of rain kissed earth. I dream of who and what I would become. Finding patterns and pictures in the curling bark of the tree then looking higher to the soft white clouds floating overhead, looking for wisdom beyond my years.
The sharp metal tic of the sprinklers is a steady and comforting movement of time on a warm and lazy summer afternoon. Motion in the trees momentarily reminds me of where I am. The trees are the boundary of my small universe. The cool wind has the power to make time stand still. I watch the last small buds open into tender green leaves while forcing womanhood to come early by wishes carried to heaven on daydreams.
I turn my head and whisper all that is me in the ear of my confidant. Hushed giggles can be heard over the orchestra of the valley. Two young women forge bonds, written in the blood of secret imperfections and unlimited possibilities. Mutual trust and disclosure mix with giddy optimism. Pacts of unfailing friendship that will last a life time are branded in their hearts. The wind rustles through the orchard matching the restlessness in their minds. Childhood and innocence are tangible things that can be let go of in the wind.
The warmth of the day and the coolness of the wind swirl gently around me. I look down at the cold coffee in front of me. In the distance I hear a siren. A gentle peace fills me. I am what I have become once again.
I take my coffee and sit at the small table outside the cafe. The spring tulips in the pot in front of me have been replaced by the more tolerant marigolds of summer. I take a satisfy drink from my cup, losing myself for a moment in the patterns of cream floating on top. The warmth of the day and the coolness of the wind blessedly swirl around me. Slowly the sounds of the city begin to fade.
Fragmented memories of a childhood long lost float on the breeze of an early summer wind, the earthy smell of fresh turned dirt caress my senses and beg me to play like a child with no consequences.
Glimpses of the past float by like shimmering dust reveled by a ray of light from the warm afternoon sun through a closed window. Adolescent awakening sparkle between clarity and hushed whispers under starlight. Forgotten are all promises given. Mother earth calls and a young woman can not resist.
I smell the crisp clean scent of leaves and wood after the late afternoon shower and it brings an unwitting sense of peace to my young heart. I watch the rain drop like diamonds off the last of the pink frosted petals. The cherry blossoms brought to life by rain drift down and caress my face like an unknown lover.
I gaze through the branches, lying on a cool blanket of rain kissed earth. I dream of who and what I would become. Finding patterns and pictures in the curling bark of the tree then looking higher to the soft white clouds floating overhead, looking for wisdom beyond my years.
The sharp metal tic of the sprinklers is a steady and comforting movement of time on a warm and lazy summer afternoon. Motion in the trees momentarily reminds me of where I am. The trees are the boundary of my small universe. The cool wind has the power to make time stand still. I watch the last small buds open into tender green leaves while forcing womanhood to come early by wishes carried to heaven on daydreams.
I turn my head and whisper all that is me in the ear of my confidant. Hushed giggles can be heard over the orchestra of the valley. Two young women forge bonds, written in the blood of secret imperfections and unlimited possibilities. Mutual trust and disclosure mix with giddy optimism. Pacts of unfailing friendship that will last a life time are branded in their hearts. The wind rustles through the orchard matching the restlessness in their minds. Childhood and innocence are tangible things that can be let go of in the wind.
The warmth of the day and the coolness of the wind swirl gently around me. I look down at the cold coffee in front of me. In the distance I hear a siren. A gentle peace fills me. I am what I have become once again.
(written on the back of a placemat at Pave Cafe some time ago)
posted by Gwendolyn @ 8:32 PM
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