a missing piece

I lost the button long ago but it's still my favorite shirt

Chambray fabric with a spread collar and short puff sleeves

a V-neck

I tell myself I'll repair it soon

find a similar button and sew the new one on

'good as new'

But something stalls my initiative-

an imprinted memory that tugs softly,

cajolingly

The reason why the empty space is there for all to see;

Bare.

~~~

The memory is fragmented:

a child's laughter in the background

you- young again, carefree, wild brown hair

tumbling over hazel eyes

your hand smoothing it back behind your ear,

licking your bottom lip as you nock an arrow onto the bowstring-

a recurve, you explain

not the artificial kind with bells and whistles

simple- one elegant piece of maple wood

I catch a glimpse of red on the fletching

then a sudden twang

you grunt

as something hits me and I stumble

falling

disoriented on a dirt floor

~~~

"it snapped", you say

mumble an apology as you extend your hand

my eyes land to focus on the bow laying next to me-

the tension entirely gone from it, lax

pieces of twisted string scattered about

I let you pull me up,

brush the loose dirt from my jeans

and glance down to notice the gap where

something is missing- the button

"it's ok", I say when you notice it,

"it's just a button"

~~~

My eyes crinkle with the memory

as I move the hanger back to its original spot

undisturbed

The years have unraveled the past to the present

like a time machine

yet nostalgia must end as you know

like our story did

The frayed bowstring, the laughter, your hazel

eyes, all years ago.