The Perfect Moment

I look at you

and I remember 16.

I remember a raspberry kiss

and the sun on my shoulders

and the smell of cinnamon gum.

I remember long walks

down uneven small-town sidewalks

with stops on Main Street
for root beer floats.

I remember bare dusty feet
and shiny toe nail polish 

and everything being perfect.

I remember when everything new

was exciting.

Everything was pregnant with potential.

Every beginning was freshest spring air.