Last Memory
A fuchsia sunset,
a vacant room in the inn
with a vista near the sea,
inhaling your sweet scent
that lingered and excited
as we hugged each other on the porch.
The calm sea flowed into the bay,
the fishermen coming in with their catch,
the red mullet, elegant to see,
tasteful to eat as the bar-b-q flared,
the fish sprinkled in herbed oil,
garnished with garlic,
and an aromatic salsa verde,
plus salad and its vinaigrette.
I remember your fragile face,
your tender mouth munching,
spitting the tiny small bones
the red mullet is renowned for.
Your satisfaction of the freshness of the catch,
your pleasure for the craggy crustaceans,
laid out like precious jewels
on a dewy bed of snow-white ice.
Alas I remember,
for it was our last luscious meal together.
Next day you went to war never to return.
29 April 2021
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