Sweet Summer
So sweet, the air is at night. I sneak out late bearing on early; walking past the honeysuckle bush. Past the roses, past the gate, past the world I know. The air at night, is ever so sweet.
But I’m not smelling honeysuckle. I’m not smelling roses or the faint drifts of sea-air. I’m not breathing this air. I refuse. Holding my breath, I am haunted by landscapes I no longer know. Streets with different names. Sounds and scents and images I no longer know. My past is glittery, a mirage at midnight. I no longer know. I no longer know.
There is a line in the pavement, down the middle I walk. Deep in the night, the safest place is the middle. In real life, the safest place is the middle. Always. Deep in the night, alone; transported to an air that smells of jasmine and cedar and the same ocean drifting past me. Only warmer. Always only warmer.
I am holding my breath. Tonight I am holding this sweet summer air in my lungs; afraid to exhale.
July 18th, 2008 at 1:48 pm
Thinking of tuber roses and ocean surf?
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Baby, I want to go home. ~W
July 18th, 2008 at 1:58 pm
By the way, beautifully written… thank you for putting yourself out here…
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You’re welcome. ~W
July 18th, 2008 at 2:42 pm
I hear you.
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I bet. ~W
July 18th, 2008 at 3:49 pm
My trips into the past are often brought on by childhood mementos, photos or writings–both mine and my children’s. I love your vision of a moonlight walk. Lovely post.
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Thank you, Margaret. The oddest things tend to send me. And usually my nose is involved. ~W
July 18th, 2008 at 5:24 pm
Beautiful.
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Thank you. ~W
July 18th, 2008 at 6:00 pm
Wow, this entry is very appropriate for what’s been going on in my head lately. Thank you for writing this!
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Thank you so much for your comment. Your blog is lovely! ~W
July 19th, 2008 at 6:24 am
so lovely
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Thank you. ~W
July 19th, 2008 at 7:56 am
*sigh*
and, amen
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I need to go catch up with your blog… my head has been DOWN working! ~W
July 19th, 2008 at 11:45 pm
Very poignant. Big sigh.
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Thanks, Liza Lee. ~W
July 20th, 2008 at 5:08 am
restless and making forays forward and back, I see. Flirt, tease- either way you are intriguing but this beautifully written post spoke to me. The scent of the past- now that has a strong pull, especially if it includes salt air. Happy Sunday, Wende.
July 20th, 2008 at 5:08 am
And Happy Birthday, Iz. You don’t know old.
July 20th, 2008 at 12:01 pm
You are too a tease
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~W
Ok, sometimes.