Love
You can smell it in the folds of her hair
or maybe in the steamy aroma of a street pretzel
in New York City in the eighties.
It might turn up on a baseball field, echo along
with the crack of a bat, or drift through a Percy
Sledge melody or the largo theme of Dvorak’s
New World Symphony. It might live in photos of people
dressed in summer colors to witness two amores join hands
fifty years ago, or get kicked around
by a little boy’s cleats on a soccer field only to appear,
again, in his grin when he graduates college. It may
hover over a hospital bed, survive the stifling
unhealthy heat there, grasp a hand gnarled by arthritis
and pain and, ephemeral and effervescent as it is, seep out
of a grave and haunt the hearts of those who are left.
- © Charlie Brice 2022
Charlie Brice won the 2020 Field Guide Poetry Magazine Poetry Contest and placed third in the 2021 Allen Ginsberg Poetry Prize. His fifth full-length poetry collection is The Ventriloquist (WordTech Editions, 2022). His poetry has been nominated twice for the Best of Net Anthology and three times for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Atlanta Review, The Honest Ulsterman, Ibbetson Street, The Paterson Literary Review, Impspired Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, and elsewhere.
Powerful and poignant.
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