A boy gives up his shoes
under a starless sky
he finds seven league boots
which land him in unknown territory (twice)
he meets someone
moments are meant not to finish
life's thread has been spooled
being is tension
now flex, release, next step.
......
Be water
"Honey" she says smiling
up to her ears
"I'll have some creamer"
her hands grabbing
I present my cheer
Right away miss, that's it
you see, I would be remiss
to assume matrimony
Doors part and air fills
some rock shouting over flaming grills
should rock shrimp be next to creamer?
"Cheers Miss."
......
I invite you to share your moments.
I wrote this in 2015 and it models after the relatively well-known poem 4th of July at Santa Ynez. I. Under the blue tent canopy relief from today’s defiant sun. Chatter winds its way up in background, cheerful hum made by all the young men and women playing at their majority. II. Wandering apart from the others as ever, I found Adam in the kitchen from one pot to another, to a new guest, to a bottle, to his camera. Last year he made clams and I drunkenly stood over them and ate til they were gone. The year before he didn’t have a party. Just the four of us found a pool and drank, repeated the same lines from the movie TBS always repeats – Independence Day – and then I left them, like I always do. III. This year I asked Adam for a party. Last time we were actually face-to-face had to’ve been December. But we talk sometimes. We email banter against work boredom. There have been nights we’ve locked together, puzzle pieces, how man and woman do. Those often stretch far apart. I’ve given him so many chances but between the two of us some lever clicks. Our engine sputters. Our belts are loose. We aren’t good romantic partners. In my mind I’ve come to the bow that we don’t know how to talk together. Still. IV. The afternoon gathers shadows of its prior selves and those we haven’t seen yet, too. Slowly, more slowly, we may learn how to yoke and pull and turn in step. Or if we never do no one will weep. I no longer bother wondering why Adam continues to reach for me. Maybe we’ll be ready and the whole work will snap in place but if not, in the meantime, I will come and spend a couple hours or an afternoon each year he invites me (he personally) commemorating the only ritual we have, the only anniversary. It’s largely innocent. I love repeating memory. Of course, it would be ours, Independence Day.
Fourth of July at Faulkland Heights
Do I want one? "Why aren't you eating?" Swallow the food, not the emotion. "I can't, I'm nervous around you..." Swallow the food, not the emotion. "I'm back to where I was before the break up with him...."
--- Oh. ".... But we can continue building a solid friendship despite the attraction..."
--- What does 'back before the break up' mean? Were the last 4 months not building upon a friendship? "Hey, I just wanted to let you know. My husband encouraged me to tell you: She referenced him as her boyfriend of [how long since the beginning]."
--- Huh. Was I being used as an emotional crutch? But I had acted out of good faith under the information I had. I think. How am I going to define my relationship with her in this dynamic...