Invisible feathers
The airs of winter
can bring over nostalgia
for bygone kisses –
tales barely started,
all gone by the next season,
replaced in summer.
And yet they linger
like invisible feathers,
invading lone walks,
landing on nose tips,
sneezes, smiles, blushing warm cheeks
until throat tightens:
too many years passed.
Too little or too much shared,
flame to smoke too fast –
and what have we learned?
Time and again we want more
from what isn’t there.
Ana Beatriz Ribeiro, 25/11/16
