A familiar feeling slowly surges inside,
I know for certain.
Last time, it was the park i have treaded umpteen times.
The people who walk alongside are a mix,
lost in their ‘getting-into-shape’ routine,
even trees look the same,
but the wind that blew across my face that evening
it carried a sllight whiff – I almost missed it – of the
fragrance you left behind.
I knew then you had been here, looking for me.
Strange are your ways in times of SMS and Scraps,
a hint would have flown me out of big Apple.
Now, on 52nd street, between 5th & 6th Avenue,
in a fancy restaurant calling itself some ‘palace’,
I sense the same feeling of being ‘touched’and I swirl
around expectantly to look, only to find
strange people in a strange space speaking in strange tones.
What is it?
Is it a face that glows radiantly,
or eyes with a hint of mischief,
or the silken hair that falls on your shoulders like a moon-lit night,
a gesture or is it the timbre of voice light as breeze
that evokes your memory, I dont know.
What I know for certain is that
I miss your warm presence beside me all the time!
