Poem By David Taylor
I’ll never forget that place that we went
one summer in Devon when we played on the beach;
or the walk late at night when we visited my uncle Jack
and I was too heavy to ride home on dad’s back;
and the trail of treasure he cleverly laid
so that I forgot I had walked nearly all of the way.
I remember wishing that time would stand still
that time we lay in each other’s arms
when all of our deepest desires seemed fulfilled.
I remember thinking the moon would be full
on that night it was dark and not lit at all.
I remember that mid-summer afternoon
when the breeze reached right into our room;
the feel of net curtains as they floated on air
and the smell of freshness everywhere.
And I still remember the taste and the smell
of the minestrone soup in that small Italian hotel.
It is strange that some moments persist
like flash lit photos in a temporal mist,
and the memories most clear which always are near
are they the ones where there’s nothing to fear,
and no place to go and no time to bestow,
with the feeling that they were never a long time ago?