Savored Time by Erika Lane Enggren

I wish I could remember more…

sometimes I think back to

last year or

the year before and

it’s like a dream I can’t recall

after I wake up.

The mind speaks words

like fallen raindrops -

so dampening in the moment but

settled after the storm.

The sun rises,

iced tea thoughts

baking in the sun.

My hands are dry

like desert air

(they must be tired of

holding.)

I hear the

muffled nostalgia

spinning outside the door…

old records remind me

of uncut scenes

we play back on repeat.

We are like the harmonica –

so small

casting the biggest sound.

We savor the shape of

jaded mountains

it is ever

forming

changing

growing

still.

We harmonize the parts of ourselves

to fit inside one shape

that changes shape.

We may not know

our current place

but we keep singing

melody.

Remember

life is of subtle things –

the moments that make days.

A window left ajar

the buzz of gentle

hummingbird

vibrates

what is n o w.

We cannot know where

we shall land, based on where

we’ve walked.

Only that this time

is savored

down to

every drop.