Sweet Charlie, Long Gone

The sea…

The foam kissed my bare feet as I ran…

In my memory, I play always at the edge

And laugh as I hold my sundress down in the wind

And laugh as I hold wet cloth away from bare skin…

    Once as the sound of a melancholy violin

        drifted from a bungalow at dusk

 it nailed me in place;

So sad, it seemed to bleed onto the sunset colored sand,

riding atop the steady tumble of waves.

and yes, the music was in the foam that licked my toes

and yes, I thought the man morose

to play such a sad song

             when the world of the ocean was at his feet as well as mine…

I found out later he was as handsome close

As he was mesmerizing from afar

   and quite charming.

I had a weakness for black hair and dark eyes even then.

I thought I would never find anyone else so worldly

Never anyone so refined…

as he gracefully played his aged violin,

As he carefully played me.

I played the innocent,

played the piano,

played him.

I remember thinking we played well together; our music, our games…

He said we came together well, smiling as he said it.

So shameless and debonair,

                       sweet Charlie, long gone.

© 2008 C. Harter Amos