Today is one of those “keeper” days,
the kind you put in your memory bottle
to uncork when winter’s grown long,
just to remember that perfection is possible.
So I stand here, feeling the breeze
on my cheek, the warmth of the sun
on my arms, inhaling the fragrances
of water, sand, wild carrot, and trees,
listening to the lapping of the waves
against the shore, to the whisper
of dancing leaves. From around the bend
where white floats guard the little beach,
the laughter of children rises like birds
into the clear, sparkling air, sending me
back to childhood. And I add those scenes
to my memory bottle, too, the ones
where time stood still and every moment
tasted like honey. Ah, it will be a fine wine,
this one, holding the flavors of the golden days
when life was rich and full, and absolutely nothing
was lacking.