Unerasable
Even Dreams Come True...
I didn’t ask for it
That moment you walked in
I was relishing my coffee
Piping hot in the late fall cold
A trying day of work behind me
Anonymous and young and alone
.
Small orange table wiped clean by napkins
How could I have ever known
The fate striding in with the whoosh of a vestibule door
.
I didn’t ask to be stolen the way I was
Filled
That moment
The girl with long black hair
And hugging blue jeans
My name, my breath
Forgotten in amazement
Arrythmia
To Hope, to Dream
.
Close your eyes, now
Close them.
Close them.
.
Now the vestibule is no longer there
Nor the little orange table
Nor the young man
The bluejeaned girl with impossibly black hair distant now
Thirty years
A mere visit in my life
I cannot forget, though how I’ve tried
.
I didn’t ask for it
That moment
The hope which for a while came true
That moment I saw you
And for a miraculous while thereafter wherein I
Learned the smell of your hair
And the sound of your laugh
Before quietly the moment ended
With a simple understanding
And a softly spoken goodbye.
.
I didn’t ask for it
That moment
That unerasable moment
But wherever you are
You’ll never know how many prayers I’ve spoken with your name in them
How grateful that young man grown old has been
To know the joy
In remembering the smell of your hair
The sound of your laugh
And even the precious chance to softly say goodbye.
About the Creator
D.P. Martin
D.P. Martin began writing a first novel in third grade - and had it survived mom's cleaning habit, it would certainly have been a number one best seller. D.P. calls New Hampshire home, raising one son and three hyperactive cats.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.