Thomas Adams (Sedalia, Mo.)
A Moments Note
I feel that when I'm at a place,
hear a tune or smell a smell.
The feeling that I've been before
is my moment in time to tell.
The strangest chill comes over me
and I am taken back.
To that exact same place before.
On down familiar track.
This burst of 'rude awakening'
will chime and then will flee.
Yet grips me for a moments note,
a memory's shopping spree.
The faces and the things I did
are remembered just like that.
How I would run or talk to you,
or exactly how I sat.
I feel befuddled and mixed a bit,
but soon it goes away.
I mention it to you my friend
for I felt it just today.
We stood beside the station love,
the noisy train a halt.
You turned to wave goodbye and then
you said twas no ones fault.
That you would go and I should stay
for task left me to do.
When I was done you promised me
that I'd be seeing you.
forty years has now gone by
and I've not seen or heard,
from you my closest, dearest friend.
nor mere a word referred.
But time respects the confidant.
allows a bloke to gloat.
I hope that time again will grant
me grip your moment's note.
The Poetaster Jun/1999
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