Everyday I watched you while
Rubbing frost off a bus window
Strained to make certain I saw
You rush up the driveway, holding
My breath until you disappeared.
Without air I would have you
One day, you would love me.
You told me
Ten years later
You feared sneaking a breath
From the moment you shouldered
Your backpack until the front
Door slammed behind. Holding
Our breath, together, our lungs straining,
How I wanted everything
Those fall and summer days, disappearing
Behind the maple leaves in your front yard,
You held your breath longer
Maple trees have come between us again
But now I continue running for my front door,
Already out of your sight.
Dec. 28, 2000
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment