Maybe he flew away

Maybe he flew away

On a new journey

Tattered wings

Still whispering life

Imprinted

With a single fleeting memory...

Even if he found his way

Into the yellowing pages

of a child's notebook

Years later

Someone might chance on it

And feel

the strange lingering memory

of a girl bent anxious

peering with her large eyes,

and wonder

at their own involuntary smile

like an unknown smell

suddenly familiar and warm.

[Reprinted with permission from a poetess friend.]