You may recall
in years to come
this feeling, this place –
home, yes,
(we all think of home)
but I mean home right now,
today;
at some vague, future time
something like these sweet smells,
brandy-soaked fruit (Christmas cakes)
and the lingering memory of breakfast’s bacon,
might bring you back to now,
you might hear the comforting melancholy
of winter jazz playing quietly on a radio,
and recall the way the winter sun infused everything
as it slanted through a filter of snow-clouds and bare branches,
you might feel the deep warmth of home,
of us, here, together.
*
Oh, right now
I know it’s just another day
a regular, lazy Sunday
a day of idle movies
of someone somewhere cooking –
peripheral,
hardly worth noting.
*
But if ever you ask me then
whether I remember now,
I will smile slightly and say
I remember, and
it was everything.