Fragments

I think it was summer

maybe fall

the sun pressed hard against my shoulder.

A laugh, sharp, like glass, slipped through the doorway.

I wanted to speak but forgot the words.

The smell of something fried, burnt,

or maybe it was hope, or dust, or both.

And you there,

somewhere,

smiling or frowning . I can’t tell which

It’s been so long

too long