Saturday, October 10, 2015

The Vision (Everything Else Disappears)

He is tall, broad shouldered.  Handsome.
A square, strong jaw-  seemingly cut from stone
That curves into satisfied smiles and open snarls.
Eyes that stare into me, a harsh probe that I welcome
But believing I see too much,
I look away.

Coming up from behind him, I had an apron in my hands.
Slinging it on him backwards, I whispered,
"Now it's a cape."
He turned, smiling.  "I guess I am Superman now."
He is right!  But there is work to do.
I'm nobody's Lois Lane.

He is so young.  I feel embarrassment in myself, the aging crone
Looking up at him in near worship, feeling every year between us.
Everything else disappears.
Why would he ever look my way?

Trying something new, I took a deep toke
Just before falling asleep.
This was no dream, but a vision
That knocked me out cold like a ball of ice.

I woke up, wrapped up in blankets that had been his arms,
His chest fading into my pillow.  Depression.
The fall sunlight shines through the crack in the curtain.
I remember everything in my head.
My eyes will recall it all the next time I see him,
But I must be silent, because he didn't see.

I don't want the awkward pauses.
I don't want this to fade and die like other dreams in my past.
I want a moment of clarity, a laughing moment
Melding into silence, where at last he sees
and in the corner away from everyone,
Everything else disappears.