A Poem

Well, it's getting put up everywhere else so it might as well go up here.

A Poem

6:40 AM

Siting outside at 6:40 AM
Sky suffused with gentle gray clouds
dripping wet tears.

I sit alone and not alone.
There is a woman next to me but she is
silent and reserved.
I make a comment on her timeless beauty
but she remains
silent and reserved.

Rebuked, I start to recite.
Not anything so formal as a poem
or strict as prose.
A mind's worth of ideas and thoughts poured
forth in an hour. Each concept falling on hard
ears as the raindrops splash on the concrete.

Distant, people stare at the two of us,
silent and loud, standing and sitting in
the rain as it washes away the traces of
what was said. I feel an echo in the
paths beneath my feet and stop
talking long enough to listen to the sounds
of history in the ground.

Tens of thousands of footsteps can be
heard across the landscape, each
echoed by a raindrop. “In an hour, as many
drops as footsteps,” I note to my silent companion.
And she remains.

I take to weeping as I have not done
in years. The tears fall down my face
not in sorrow, not in joy. I cry with the
sky.

In my heart, I am sitting with a woman
made of bronze, on a plinth. And I am thinking
about the things that I love and the things
I have lost. And knowing that she has seen
everything with unblinking eyes.

Muah!
Lyrinoir