Indulge me for I'm sat looking at a scarf As I transport rather splendid G and T To its final destination Not mine I hasten to add, my scarf that is not the gin Purple not my colour you see I had issue with burgundy as a child, frightful memories I digress but it was left behind like a signature Not intentionally just in a sweet forgetfulness I can't pick it up, crazy as it sounds I mean if I did it would be real not imagery The moment lost, but no real moment as I can't feel it Do you understand ? Perhaps not I have admittedly been reminded of its presence I imagine it's scent, no I imagine her scent Her presence in the room, her smile lifts me I mean it's just a scarf I mean it can't exist can it? Do we leave a little of ourselves behind? Emotion like lost property I don't know, I honestly don't Is there a course for metaphysical disorientation and the re repatriation of lost purple scarfs? I guess not. I'd probably fail in any case. It will still be here tomorrow. In plain sight, just hidden from my reality Goodnight scarf.