The Nose in Nostalgia

How quiet it seems
when certain scenes
of the not-so-ordinary everyday
emerge
into a slow,
memory-stained hue.

The scrape of a chair
pushed aside,
re-entering
the smell of coffee,
and thinking,
I used to write poems here.

*****

Too busy to blog, but my head swims with thoughts. More like twirls around in a vertigo. Took advantage of a few moments while waiting for my teammate before a meeting to scribble a few lines.