I am transported back to the lunch table,
The innocence of elementary school friendships;
And the sun which now shines on me witnesses
This hit of intense nostalgia-bliss:
Taste of sticky-sweet and I am somehow free,
All else that surrounds me is extraneous.
Extracting happiness from the memory,
Sensing a stable, never-gone presence.
Good things happen when I eat lunch outside, I guess! Inspiration is found in the most random places. Linked with FOWC: Extraneous.