Fondly

I had not planned on thinking of him again
but it wasn’t my fault
When I headed out this morning
I fished around for some music
and popped in a CD without looking

I knew from the first song that it was his
You can tell a lot about a man from his playlist
and then you play the game
of reading between the lines
embellishing and characterizing
and thinking of what might have been
of near misses
and just plain missing
someone you once held so close

But once the games were played out
I could not say that absence
makes the heart grow fonder
for it was neither more nor less
than what it had been
It was exactly the same
like the way fresh baked bread smells
when you walk into a kitchen
ripe with familiar warmth
and your mouth begins to water
with knowing

He was like that to me
comforting to my soul
elegant in his simplicity
like bread and wine on a springtime afternoon
with a gentle breeze breaking the sun on your skin
and you need nothing else
nothing else

I doubt he ever thinks of me
and why should he?
I left not even a trace behind
but if he should
I hope the favor is returned
and he remembers my playlist
with that word now as antiquated as CD’s
-- fondly


photo by Flickr member Deborah Esrick
(click on photo for her photostream)