There Was A Time...

back when white t-shirts were only worn under work shirts,

she would squint across the alleyway

through the dawns rays from her third story window

to watch him, while she trimmed her new spider plants

sprouting from green water glasses with white painted daisies.

he struck a match on the cement stoop

to light a menthol cigarette.

smoke, sulfur, and essence of sandalwood

became her favorite morning aromas.

she counted each fold in his forehead

traced his frown lines

and in her mind through his pale blue collar

of his work shirt she massaged

the tension from his neck.

his name was stitched in red on

the right side of his chest. on pointed

elbows she teetered her head in her hands

only able to discern the letter “C”.

she named him, “cholly”

figured he liked banana puddin

so every thursday evening she

prepared it and widened her windows

to provide him salutations

that he never returned.

back when a man still looked at a woman with respect

he would wait until he heard

the squeaking of her opening window

before stealing a peek at her sun kissed cheeks

as she pulled back the canary colored curtains.

he struck a match on the cement stoop

to light a menthol cigarette.

inhaled deeply to see if he could catch

traces of bananas and vanilla wafers.

he purposely hid his joy upon

hearing the tickling of tiny scissors

against water glasses. becoming

jealous of the lotion she methodically

rubbed into her flawless skin.

he didn’t know her name so

one morning he thought to name her

candy for her sweetness, then grace

for her fluidity, finally settling on dawn.

he took the overtime on thursdays

because by the first day of autumn

he will have enough money to escort her

to that new café that overlooked a wildflower

garden by the waterfront.

back when a woman and a man took the time to get to know one another,

cholly waved to dawn on his way to work.

***originally published by Michele Mitchell