Nondescript

The nondescriptness of that moment
was what stayed in my memory after we parted,
that nothing had been special enough to have a name:
no clue what colour the furniture was,
what those locals named the food we ate,
how long it was that you and I sat there
on some windy terrace, facing the North Sea.
Nothing happened. Clouds appeared to fade.
But as time went by, pieces fell into place.
I remembered the name of the colour:
mauve. And it came with the memory
of your whisper. The smell of tar,
the lines near your eyes.
My reply. The best moment ever.
Let me describe it like this.

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Comments on: "Nondescript" (6)

  1. This is terrific,

    Those moments when nothing happened yet everything did.

    Wonderful

    David
    xxx

    • Thank you David.

      Sometimes we know much later what went on ๐Ÿ™‚

      Arohanui ๐Ÿ™‚
      xxx

  2. This is just fqbulous! I have experienced this; maybe we all have, but you have a way of conveying it that I could never do.

    L&H xx

  3. Strange how the blur can become such a distinct memory. Perhaps what inspiration is made of … XO

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