Here I am,
cherishing the gift,
the book of poetry you gave.
A book about love and separation
a book about stars and mars
and manhattan twilight.
So many years, so many miles apart
yet, somehow connected
where spirit resides.
Connected each time I read aloud
the rhymes of ancient times,
rhymes of astrology and mythology,
rhymes of six pointed snowflakes.
Still connected on the astral plane,
the taste of olives stirs fond memories.
Elaborate snack trays:
crackers, cheeses, sausage—
and olives.
With each bite of an olive you would
very seriously state, “I love olives”,
look at me with a twinkle in your eyes
and repeat “Olive olives”.
Then we laughed like children
about secrets only we understood.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge day 89/365.
Desert Dweller 