Two blocks down the street,
just around the corner from joy,
someone put in a new sidewalk.
At one corner, a heart, an arrow,
two sets of initials, bound
in concrete and eternal hope.

I walk by, and feel the arrow shift,
your initials etched deep into my heart.
I'm pouring a thick layer of time over them,
waiting in stone-stoic patience
for the cure of these wet words
into just another piece of work.