Spectations

A study, of words, in crimson, sometimes blue, rarely yellow.

Split Second

Sometimes when I’m sitting in front of the TV,
when I’m entering the house after a tiring day,
when I’m sitting quietly in my own room,
I catch a note from a song,
I catch a whiff of a perfume,
I catch a glimpse of a shadow on the wall.

And for a split second,
I’m taken back,
To Wednesday dinners,
To Monday afternoons,
To Friday goodbyes.

And in that split second,
I have you back,
Standing in the kitchen,
Working on the Wednesday dinner.

And I reach out to you.

But then the split second is gone,
And you’re gone again,
And I sit back, waiting for the next time,
I catch a note from a song,
I catch a whiff of a perfume,
I catch a glimpse of a shadow on the wall.

I sit back and wait for the next split second,
That will bring you back to me.

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