An Afternoon Memory in the Making

The church bells ring while the priest absolves the sinners
and the pigeons explode upward in flight.

The sky empties just as quickly as feathers
settle back down amongst the sandals and crumbs.

Your eyes smile at me as you pour the wine.

I inhale the smell that is this place and this moment, and
I decide, that dandelions are flowers, too.

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2 thoughts on “An Afternoon Memory in the Making

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