The Matches

In the course of mundane tasks
I found a book of matches today.
Not an earthshaking event,
or that unusual, you say.
In the scheme of all that is,
an insignificant event,
and yet to me, in my own special space,
it represents a love I knew, a place we went.
For just a moment or two,
I was young and pretty.
Enjoying life and all its pleasures,
exploring sites and sounds in a brand new city.
My life was before me,
the plot not yet written.
All there was was me,
and the man with whom I was smitten.
I smelled the smells,
and heard the sounds.
Vividly remember how it felt,
to know a love that had no bounds.
I tried to throw that book of matches away,
but their pull was to strong.
Back in the drawer they went.
Least I forget youths, sweet sweet song.