Memories Adrift

A fragrance drifts. . . haunting like forgotten, formless souls, a swift remembrance-bearing wave cresting on the ship-blank sea. Somewhere in those pearl studded waters you linger, your gentle laughter echoing, sounding ripplets on the pebbled beach. Another breeze, foreign scent bearing, and our fleeting dance is forever gone; how strongly the sense of your presence escaped from the past's closed door. A beam of sanded driftwood, limb stripped, lies stranded just beyond the reach of creaming foam, home hungry, like a memory once loved but since discarded, set free but afraid to roam. Copyright, September 3, 2014 Faye Lanham Gibson