My walk with him is one of many
The clouds above shuffle with their waltzes
Over a decked out lake
And my fear of isolation dissolves
And drips down into the cracks of cement
Produced by bicycles
Owned by people like him
I imagine that one of the cars on the roads ahead is his
Bumper to bumper with hers
Red to red
White to white
Cheek to cheek
His to mine
And the busses intervene
I see the green that illuminates somehow from underwater
And it reminds me of the roundness in his eyes
The color gets deeper, more intimidating, more profound
Once it rises from the sand to the surface
And I gaze into the night sky above
Imagining how it used to be
Pretending that the artificial satellites that dot the obscurity
Are stars produced by the heavens that hold them
And once I realize that he will never be the way he was before
I pray to the place in my uncertainty where I often find hope
And I close my eyes shut
And squeeze them tight
But continue to walk
Placing faith in my steps, so that I may not trip over strewn about gravel
And I put forth my prayers to my guardian angel
My guardian angel
The one who knows me best
Who is there in the dark corners of time
In the bleakest moments of my life
And his
And yours
And God’s
And I imagine not a shimmering halo
That sheds flakes of light
Or robes of white
But someone like you
Who sits next to me on the cement on the sidewalk corner of my apartment building
Wearing Ugg boots and a North Face fleece
And she doesn’t say a word
But she looks up to me with bright green eyes
And takes my hand that is in a fist
And opens it
And places in it her Claddagh ring
And she jumps up and darts behind a parked car
And leaves
And I open my eyes
As I have almost reached home