Sense Memory

A light breeze

lifts the scent of wood smoke

on a gray December morning.

No one is out early

in the post-holiday winter.

The tendrils of smoke linger,

they have traveled far —

across years,

from the deep, soot-stained

fireplace of a lodge

by a glacial lake.

Snow drifted down that day

as we read in chairs by the hearth.

A steady supply of split logs

ensured a long respite.

When the warmth of the flames

overwhelmed,

we retired to a small balcony

with two chairs perched

above the frozen lake.

As my present-day heart squeezes,

this cherished memory

unfurls

on this quiet winter street,

blooming bright and warm.

3 thoughts on “Sense Memory

  1. I miss our log burning fireplace! Currently, we have a gas insert and it just isn’t the same without “the scent of wood smoke” and the “warmth of the flames.”

    Favorite lines: “As my present-day heart squeezes,/ this cherished memory/unfurls”

    Like

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