Fragrant
Taste
Of
Being
Young
Lingers
On
The
Tongue,
Savored
In
This
Later
Sun,
Or
In
A
Song
Recalled
From
Long
Ago.
We
Must
Wait
For
Time
To
Illuminate
Scenes
One
Could
Not
Then
Appreciate,
But
In
A
Fleeting
Moment
Of
Reflection,
The
Recollection
Comes,
A
Wisp
Of
Scented
Youth,
Seen
At
Last
In
Its
Humble
Truth.