Out by the bay
Sonja sleeps
She opens her eyes
Only to peek
At the passing cars
Or at the loud noise
Maybe it's her name
Maybe it's his voice
Then out of the blue
A man passes by
And then she pretends
To keep shut her eyes
But here I am
By the nearby palm tree, spying
I notice that Sonja is not sleeping
She's crying
Tears are of no notice to others but me
Poor sleeping Sonja
Under the tree
I can make up all sorts of stories
But I never will know
From where these tears came
To where will it go
So I sat beside Sonja
A drink in my hand
I said "Sonja, my dear
Do not cry. I know you are weary
That's why you sleep.
But know dearest that I have been watching you weep."
Sonja opened her eyes, all in a glaze
Then asked me a question
Looking away from my face
She spoke in the faintest of voices, she said, "Hal do you know who that man was, the man in the hat? If you do not know, then why do you care? You do not know me enough to despair."
"Sonja, how do I know that your name is yours? There is a meaning to actions however you don't see. Now tell me your story."
Then the man went and stood from the stool he had sat
And left with his panama hat
He did not even look our way
He said not a word, from the very start to the very end
It seemed he had made his way there
To see sleeping Sonja, that was all.
She told me of lost love
Of not wishing to sin
She told me he married
A woman he did love
But their love was new
His and Sonja's was old
Sonja had been sent to a convent
When they were in love
When she broke her vow
She thought so could he
Now he merely passes the bay
And Sonja waits patiently
I felt for her story
When would she end her waiting?
When she gets old and the sun wrinkles her skin?
Why does he keep her hoping?
Pain is a memory that we insist on remembering
Forgetting is a choice, not a flaw
How can we forgive
When we return to the past?
He must be returning the favor he thinks
And Sonja sleeps in atonement.