12/4/15

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