Once in a while,
as late afternoon sunlight
gently tiptoes in,
steam from my coffee mug
dances a welcome gesture
and my living room walls blush pink.
Faraway noises curl up to me
and the book on my lap
does not want to be read, only held.
Past and Future smile at each other,
while the Present kisses my mouth.
The illusion of time erased for an instant,
then, with a spark,
the moment is gone.
To return
Maybe?
Surely,
some other time.