One small
thin, red bottle vase
on the shelf
brings me
back
to that night
of a bonfire
in an opening
in a field.
I can smell the smoke
of the cigarettes
as the group walked
beneath the stars
toward the just-lit fire
illuminating the dark
surrounding us.
There was a boy there,
who I liked from a distance
but hardly knew.
He may have said hi.
I’m not even sure of that.
Nothing ever happened,
and I know nothing
of him now.
A night of friends
almosts
and maybes
having fun,
wasting and
spending time
together.
Just another night.
I don’t even recall
the significance
of the vase itself,
but every now and then
there is a spark
of reminiscence
when I see it
that brings me
back
to that memorable,
insignificant night.