“Run and be free.
Look both ways
before crossing the street”.
but sometimes I forget.
I’m so absorbed
with Jack Kerouac’s On the Road
or when I’m in the middle
of a thousand projects
and I’m running
through “a maze
of twisting little passages”.
It’s not all these things.
I have changed
since the cherry blossoms.
When I see any flower
my memory of you returns.
The formal education of holding your hands
To experience softness and delicacy of an early afternoon
Silent murmurs of kittens playing in the kitchen
Slow boiling broth on the stove
Your shyly approving eyes
And mind calculating the cooking time
When will dinner be?
But then it may not be so important
When there are other things to think about.
note: I wrote this poem 2010. I don’t know if I have posted it before.