Friday, September 27, 2013

The Present

Anticipation is a drug, 
lifting me higher and higher 
with every minute, every hour,
I wait for you. 

The present is reality
glaring at me with sobering eyes;
it warns my heart to step lightly. 
It reminds me never to forget
other times like this.

But, when I see you, things are easy.
There is no past, no future.
There is only the present. And we
know how to live in the moment.

I carry you with me, 
after you go, leaving behind 
the faint scent of your cologne; 
it is even more apparent  
when the breeze tosses my hair.

© 2013 Helena Malheur

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