My finger, one fingertraces down her temple
over her sweet cheeked smile
eyes lighted
just for me
just for me...
So many emotions
behind that smile for me
I must take each of them that
I discover and put them in their own mason jar
and screw the lid down tight
for safe keeping.
To preserve
what surely will be lost.
For you see, we are all delicate
things.
Perishable.
This environment is not kind
to such fragile creatures.
But I wonder.
What is ever meant to last?
I reach for one of the mason jars
and take it down off upon the shelf,
unscrew its top, and tip
its' contents into my waiting mouth.
I smile and reach for another.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
