Walking on the sidewalk

Passing reflections in the glass

Everywhere I look

I see haunting memories of you

 

It was twenty years ago to this very day

That I lost you

We were young and in love

We had grand plans

That our parents didn’t approve of

 

We talked of traveling the world

Making babies and love under a sunset’s ocean

We talked of setting up a small café

Among locals that spoke a different language than us

 

We talked about sailing oceans

From port to port

Even though neither one of us knew how to sail

We talked about writing a book together

About adventure and sex and loneliness

Even though we were virgins of life back then

 

I walk the cold streets of New York

And think about what could have been

An empty typewriter sits in my studio

My heart is broken

Because you were my first

And my only

 

Ever since you’ve been gone

There has been no one

Remotely comparable

No matter how many times I mend

No matter how many dates I attend

No matter how many samplings I taste

 

I wish the Five O’Clock was late

Bending around that curve

The train was on time

There was no warning

The lights weren’t flashing

The barriers weren’t down

My foot was on the gas

 

I was driving as late autumn leaves drifted in the air

Your hands outstretched from the car window

We were singing together out loud          

Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” was on the radio

And that we were, so free

You were so cheerful and beautiful

 

It happened so suddenly

And in such slow motion

The cracking and crumbling

The shattering of glass

The car spun a few times

Around and around

When I came to

I felt the trickle of blood

Down my face

I looked at the passenger seat

And you were gone

 

 

© 2013 David Greg Harth

13.12.11.17:47:56@323NYC