the walk.

for fifty-three minutes early this evening
i went for a walk.

most passers-by wouldn't stop
to think twice
about the things which so captivated my senses
but then,
neither would they be likely to blush at beautiful mountains
as the sunrise peeks up behind their heads.

faint shouts of laughter caught my attention
amidst the soft, loving breeze
and i became quite convinced it was all surreal--
that i was caught in the middle of someone's daydream.

happy were those times--
the days of childhood fantasies and carefree nights
when we'd shoot hoops past eight thirty
and stifle our giggles for a midnight summer swim.

bittersweet they were
the memories and dreams of the past,
for i knew i would never return to them;
moreover they would never be repeated,
not even, most likely, by my own little dears.

i'm not like the others,
no house and front porch planned out
with gardenia bushes hiding the windowsill
and elegant paintings hanging in the hall.
no picture-perfect kitchen
[though i confess we are such lovely friends]
and no stately grandfather clock to remind all of his time.

i might have entertained some of those thoughts
every once in a great while
but it all changed nine years ago.

i could not have imagined that i'd be here--
in desperation, trying to remember the future.
i searched in vain for my Pleiades,
but alas, only four of the seven sisters were out tonight.

then stopping for a moment,
i recalled that sometimes
when you stare too intensely, it can become lost.
but stepping back,
the entirety of the night sky illuminates what your eyes had been pleading.

and so it is.


H