Just a passing moment
A breath of air on my face
reminds me of something I can’t quite recall
and the moment has passed
Looking out of the window a cup of tea in my hand
a quick flurry of snow and then gone
Catching someone’s eyes as I pass them in the street
a connection a recognition a nearly smile
A wren in the garden I thought was a brown leaf
left over from winter blowing across the path
On a dark grey clouded day
a break shows me enough blue sky
The cold smoky familiar smell of a November night
crowds my head with memories
then gone for now
The sweet moist smell of cut grass
Leaves in autumn
Raindrop Racing down the window on a wet afternoon
An old song pulls me back
Glancing in the mirror above the sink I see my mother’s face
My daughter looks at one of her children and I see her father
A passing moment of a memory allows despair to wrap me up
and I try to let it pass
How much of life is made of passing moments
All the emotions in a brief encounter or thought
The lives of my children
My life
The earth is millions of years old
I am a passing moment
Carregonnen – I do life writing in poetry and prose about child abuse and mental health – politically I am a radical feminist.
