A gentle melody
that nudges— awakens, a memory
it wasn’t love then, not yet
just a noncommittal thought
that you would always be there.
The tune was dusty, metallic
a music box phantom from somewhere
the ashes of ashes
vibrating soft melancholy
of a forgotten matter of fact.
to the unconditional love between a child and it’s parents.
The-Bleu-Bivouac 