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The air has felt thick and sweet recently
like the liquid fudge that sat condensing on the stove,
filling the house with its smell.

She arrived with small pieces of sugar,
wrapped up in coloured papers and plastics.
I ate them in the heat and the rest melted in her car,
pushing at the sides of wrappers.

We sat on rocks and watched the water move at our feet.
With each current a new memory pulled toward us.
People from our past floated around
as we held them in our hands for a while
then let them drift away with the tide.

Briana Jamieson
© 2024