Sweet Charlie, Long Gone The sea… The foam kissed my bare feet as I ran… In my memory, I play always at the edge And laugh as I hold my sundress down in the wind And laugh as I hold wet cloth away from bare skin… Once as the sound of a melancholy violin drifted from a bungalow at dusk it nailed me in place; So sad, it seemed to bleed onto the sunset colored sand, riding atop the steady tumble of waves. and yes, the music was in the foam that licked my toes and yes, I thought the man morose to play such a sad song when the world of the ocean was at his feet as well as mine… I found out later he was as handsome close As he was mesmerizing from afar and quite charming. I had a weakness for black hair and dark eyes even then. I thought I would never find anyone else so worldly Never anyone so refined… as he gracefully played his aged violin, As he carefully played me. I played the innocent, played the piano, played him. I remember thinking we played well together; our music, our games… He said we came together well, smiling as he said it. So shameless and debonair, sweet Charlie, long gone. © 2008 C. Harter Amos