Smoke

For a brief moment I was lost in a thought While walking up the flight of stairs to her room – Her hand leading me up, my eyes catching a flash Of her bare thighs under a simple yellow skirt –

And I was a boy again, in that small moment, Holding a present I had longed and wished for – Bright blue emotions, sparks in mid-ignition Bursting in my chest – lights never to grow old.

When I think of her leading me upstairs to her bed, There’s always a thought of that one precious Christmas – The lightweight pig-iron cap-gun, the blind surprise And spurt of gunpowder-smoke after the first bang.

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