The things

The things lost.

Laughter of the young boy, erupting in its high pitched tone as a babbling creek moves through his toes. A radiant day with clear blue skies providing the backdrop for this moment. His seven year old self wouldn't realize it during the moment, but these would be one of the things lost.
A sinple childhood innocence. Not knowing of the cruelty existing in the world. An impending divorce between his two parents who had sworn that infidelity would not be the end of their relationship. Being able to laugh at a passing butterfly because of its mismatched colors would be another thing. A passing memory to a once wide eyes child.

A button.
It was sewn on by the boys mother. It's deep maroon color similar to her insides. Constantly churning in anticipation of what was to come. She knew that this precious time wouldn't always last. A bowl cut and hand stitched sweater brought joy to her. But this as well, would be one of the things lost.

The scent of a woman.
Tempting and strong. The inviting fragrance that entices a man like I. These are the things lost.



I miss her, but I won't tell her.