I roamed the world, looking for you. But you were never really there. When I had met you at the shore in July, I finally found a place I could call home. Never had I felt so drawn to another person — until there was you. One day followed the other, but your smile remained the same. You looked unruly and wild, yet your words were always gentle and kind. Not a single day did I want to spend without the bliss you had given me. I thought it was you and me until the end of time.
On the first day of fall, I woke up alone. I looked for a letter or another clue, but you had left nothing behind. You were gone as suddenly as you had appeared. Was it planned or by accident? I opened the window, and a bird came flying into my room. It sang a sad song before it ascended once again into freedom. My heart ached, and I started my quest, for I clung to the hope of finding you. I rang the bells of many houses, visited nearby towns, and wandered many lonesome shores, from morning to night, I was on the search. I could not ask anyone for help because nobody even knew your name. After months with no results, doubt started to spread. Why did nobody know you? Did I even know you at all? You never told me about your life, only that you came from the wild. The more I was looking for you, the more I gave up on hope. It was as if you had never been there. Eventually, I ended my search and continued my life.
Now I am old, my mind is tired and my body wearisome. It has been a long time since I last thought of you. I got married in spring, that was forty years ago. My husband is already gone, and I will follow soon. I haven’t got much strength left in my bones, but my grandson persuaded me to go on one last journey: to his wedding in the hometown of his fiancé. Halfway through, we take a break in a tavern somewhere in the mountains. The waitress brings us our meals, and the barkeeper opens a window. That is when I smell your scent, and I am once again mesmerized. How could it be? You are only a ghost of my memory now. But something propels my legs to stand up, and I follow the scent which leads me outside. Standing above a precipice, I feel your presence as if you were right next to me. The birds sing a familiar song, and the sun is shining on a valley. A breeze touches my cheeks gently. The wind is calling my name, and I know it is you. After all this time, I finally remember, I met you on a stormy day.
Mel Black is an aspiring writer, poet, and philosophy and English Studies graduate. She’s recently published her first poem ‘Mother’s Call’ in the ‘Global Warming’ anthology of The Poet’s Choice. You can find her on writermelblack.com and Twitter: @thisismelblack.