Now, in a Memory

 

I’m here now, now hiking in Annadel State Park, dry heat, fresh smell, blue sky. Blue sky,  walking the streets of Puebla on a late afternoon, content, vivid pinks of borgavelia, light turquoise, serene yellow, white clouds. White clouds at the beach in Little Compton, a child, admiring the blue iridescent sand, wait, I’m grown now.

 

Pink sky, now in Bangkok on a water taxi, admiring the twisting twirling banners in the wind, gold, striking blue, hot pink, deep green — deep green indescribable — I’m watching the sun sparkle off the ocean, as I stand again, on my favorite beach. Here now, again, I’m stopped as a row of swans fly over me silently at the beach, necks outstretched, pure white, light blue. Light blue, I’m walking in Swan Point Cemetery, finding a brown and white striped hawk feather delicately waiting on the grass, lit up, true green. 

 

I’m here now, but now I’m catching a quick glimpse of a hummingbird flying away. There, now, passing by the rhododendron, mountain laurel, peonies, I’m reveling in the white and pink, deep red, pale lavender. Pale lavender, passing the scattering of ironweed that lines the path through the dunes, colors illuminated, dark emerald green, soft beige sand, clear blue sky. Clear blue sky, my favorite blue building set against it, in real life, in a memory, in a photograph, in an artwork.