City lights and jazz in the air
the smell of smoke in my hair,
the first scent of a lit cigarette
are memories I just can’t forget.
Coppertone still fills my head
reminds me of things you said.
A time of day still makes me smile,
our hearts store them like a file.
Forgotten like a vapor’s mist
don’t mean that they don’t exist.
A song or smell has a knack
of snapping us so quickly back,
at any given time you see
I can find you in my memories.
Ah, yes the smell of smoke in my hair
I close my eyes and find you there.
I originally wrote this one on my http://dianereedwiter.wordpress.com blog today, but really felt that it belonged here.