A Rose then thought

For a split second I saw a rose, then thought of rose, of summer, a crown of thorns on the carport at my Grandma’s house, the garden on the west slope, of sitting there on the concrete above watching people walk along the path below, what were they doing… what was that feeling

Dreaming I could zip along the colored rows like the swallows that flew there… not remembering the last time, every darting pass, something on it’s own, not carrying the satchel of fading colors and smells that tear the moment apart