Familiar, a poem by S. Lewis

On Armistice Day

Familiar, a poem from S. Lewis

Coffee, a stretch and a "Good morning" breath:
The scent of this day holds something familiar.
Is it the smoke crawling from the chimney?
The dog's breath as she licks a hand?
Steaming coffee on a warm face?
The deck dribbled with dew?
Yesterday's cut grass?
Are lilacs blooming?

The nose and mouth and eyes and ears and skin
Smell the lost memory of sometime ago.
The memory is here somewhere among these things.
No, it's something else; familiar and troubling.
Senses close one by one to find the thing.
Mouth takes its final swallow of coffee.
Ears listen only to dew on branches.
Skin huddles inside the warm coat.
Eyes shut to capture the memory in darkness.
Don't taste. Don't see. Don't touch. Don't listen.
Shock opens eyes with sudden wet clarity,
And a wish to drown it out.

Bring back the lilacs.
Roll around in the grass.
Swipe at dew on the deck.
Steam up glasses with coffee.
Love dog breath with both hands.
Thank the chimney for smoky wood.
Taste, see, touch, listen, smell anything
That is not the thing just rediscovered.