Meet me by the abbey

Petergate, with a view of York Minster, York, UK photo by Tess Kincaid

Petergate, with a view of York Minster, York, UK photo by Tess Kincaid

The scent of footsteps
a lingering hangover

“Meet me by the abbey”
you said – leaving
thirty years ago

Still I’m searching
deep in bottles of regret.

Linked to Magpie Tales.

March 16, 2015

34 responses to “Meet me by the abbey

  1. “the scent of footsteps” Love the mixing of senses here. And that last thought about still searching…in bottles of regret…this poem tells a story much greater than the seven lines that it is contained in.

  2. Can feel the sadness and regret but time to let go and make some new memories. So much said in so few words. Very well written.

  3. This speaks to me. It reminds me of Joni Mitchell’s song “Last Time I saw Richard.” But also, in a different/same way, I feel the absence of one who has died without my permision.

  4. The scent of footsteps is lovely–and the idea of hangover being that lingering scent memory–works well with the bottles! Thanks, Bjorn. k.

  5. We tend to be like that, Bjorn. I could feel the unforgetting nature here, like don’t take “No” for an answer.

  6. This is such a poignant story – beautifully crafted in so few words. One of my favorites of yours. I would list it up there, in the lofty realm of: Bjorn’s Best Short Poems. A wonderful little piece.

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