They sent you away. You took a security position in another state at one of those glass buildings that rose up and into the sky. They needed someone who was trained and skilled with a gun. That was you.
I was in the park. You wanted me to meet you in the park when you told me you were leaving with her. I heard sounds of water trickling over the rocks in the fountain, and the katydids humming when I turned my face away.
Once again, someone was wandering off, roaming, leaving-leaving. All those images of my mother walking the streets without shoes, the whispers in her ears more frantic than her rapid thoughts as she talked to herself until she lost her way and would go missing for days. From a distance, a crow called out and circled the sky. I watched as the bird moved round and round with fierce speed until I found the courage to say, “Go, James, you go, follow your path.”
I didn’t hear you pleading, all those breathless words, promises that filled the air. I didn’t hear you, not a word. For you were my childhood pal, you were the safe, loyal friend until this year. Yes, it became, more so much more. You filled the gaps James, all those holes.
I walked on-on-on toward the stone fountain shuffling the coins in my pocket wondering if it was worth it to make a puny wish, wondering if I could bargain with God.
I was in the park. You wanted me to meet you in the park when you told me you were leaving with her. I heard sounds of water trickling over the rocks in the fountain, and the katydids humming when I turned my face away.
Once again, someone was wandering off, roaming, leaving-leaving. All those images of my mother walking the streets without shoes, the whispers in her ears more frantic than her rapid thoughts as she talked to herself until she lost her way and would go missing for days. From a distance, a crow called out and circled the sky. I watched as the bird moved round and round with fierce speed until I found the courage to say, “Go, James, you go, follow your path.”
I didn’t hear you pleading, all those breathless words, promises that filled the air. I didn’t hear you, not a word. For you were my childhood pal, you were the safe, loyal friend until this year. Yes, it became, more so much more. You filled the gaps James, all those holes.
I walked on-on-on toward the stone fountain shuffling the coins in my pocket wondering if it was worth it to make a puny wish, wondering if I could bargain with God.
