the comings and goings of others
and their interminglings.
The cacophony of voices float to him
and uplift his loneliness with their chaos;
he sees two young lovers meet with laughter
and he smiles to himself in remembrance of younger days.
For a time, he is complacent; for a time.
The intrusion of gaiety into his somber morning
speaks volumes of whispered images
and a solitary teardrop slips down the bed
of wrinkled softness to hang from his chin unnoticed.
I stand quietly, watching his reverie with empathy
and then slowly move to return his frail body
to the crumpled death-bed of loneliness
where once he shared passioned lifetimes
with the woman who was his wife.
For a time, he was complacent; for a time.
A small sigh escapes his lips and he stares
at the textured plaster ceiling where
shadow and light play duels in little pockets.
He whispers to me as I turn to go-
“I loved her so much, Alan, so much…
I miss her, each moment, every day.”
I tuck the blanket around his neck,
and wipe the liquid trace of sorrow
away with a gentle palm.
A young man sits on his balcony and watches
the comings and goings of others
and their interminglings.
The cacophony of voices float to him
and bring him to loneliness with their chaos;
he sees two young lovers meet with laughter
and he smiles to himself in acceptance of older days.
Kevin
August 9, 2005