A man, passing a certain point
on a certain sidewalk,
looks back,
reflects upon his being
and is beset by memories.
The sweet fragrance of her perfume;
Her hair, like silken scarves.
The touch of her body with skin so soft.
All taken away but a lifetime too soon.
And a promise to never love again…
He tries to forget what he has remembered
but the floodgates open wide,
pouring out into a paramount vision
of his life without living.
He sees her in the clouds
(They form her silhouette)
He hears her voice in the night
(The wind carries her song)
He feels her in his very soul
(Yearning to break free)
Tears flow, his vision is obscured by hazy clouds.
He sees her in the gloom ahead.
Is it her? He can’t tell.
She turns around, face full in front
of his tear blurred sight.
No, it isn’t her
but she is there.
It happened so fast, he doesn’t believe.
He wouldn’t let go he steadfast truth
that love cannot live
after pain, suffering and grief
have left signs of passing.
But not now.
Inside his heart a feeling begins to break
the chains of self-pity
imprisoning him for so long.
They are wrenched apart,
torn,
broken,
and bleeding.
The promise breaks free from it’s cold,
dark prison and flies away,
blown on the breeze to fall
unnoticed to the street.
And this man takes her hand in his.
He had found his love again; he would never let it go.
“Do you love?” she whispered,
and whirling around, whisked him into
the still, cold night;
laughing, then falling silent.
*College creative writing class spawned mediocrity. I considered this one the best of the mediocre.*