Dear J------

Dear J------,

In my dreams,

You stood, in the doorway,

Etched from the rain,

That descended, in gray

Down the window.

You stood

In the liminal space

Between the rain-conjured mists

Rising from the street

And the low, aspen light

Of the coffee shop—

You shook off you umbrella,

Stepped by the fire

In the corner,

Waded through the scent of herbal tea

And dark roasts

As lithographs in

The atmosphere

And as you looked around,

I could have waved,

But I watched,

For a few seconds more

Your red hair

Your skin emblazoned

With the deep hues—

—the reds and amber orange—

Reflected off the wooden walls

And the music—soft jazz—

Eddying through the café.

I watch, a spy in the bauble world,

My breath something solid, until

You see me, and you smile

And wave, and

Walk towards my table,

And as you do, I see

You run a small hand

Through your auburn hair.

How high the rope

That you flung down,

Your eyes casting lines to me

Your smile

A beacon in the air.

How many autumns did I see

Awash in rains—

How many heralds

Of the winter

Would we brave?

How long the beach

On which we walked,

And how endless

The dusk

As the atmosphere burned

Low

Over the waters

To the west.

How deep were the dreams

We cast,

Through the rain-emblemed

Windows,

In the apartment that we shared

In a city of sunlight

And rain.

How many shores,

Did we walk,

How many mountains

Did you stand before

And smile

Or cringe

As I aimed the camera

To you.

And when I saw you last night

On the screen,

Watched the pixelated fragments

Of a life

Fulfilled,

I know

That you’ve forgotten

That single glance

That single smile

Towards the fat kid

Who read his poems

To the class

And you will fly on

In wings, ever-unfolding

Against the dawn

Of your life,

But I just wanted you to know

How many worlds

Your voice had cast

How many autumn rains

Will now fall

Along the smudged glass

Of the café where

We never met.

And how those worlds

Will fill my dreams,

Enough to bronze your voice

Against the ebbing tide

Of a sunset

Constellation

Where ghostly feet

May fall,

Just enough

To wish you well,

And sleep

Anew.

Sincerely,

S----