Some Tuesday

one day-

it might be Tuesday or Sunday,

sunny or tempestuous.

I cannot see if the day is hot

and we seek shade of caves

and movie theaters; or cold and we

hover around fire and tell

ghost stories, recounting those times

we encountered hope and fear

in unexpected places.

 

I am sure-

on this day, you will embrace me

with the fearlessness of violins,

you will kiss me with the recklessness

of great personal tragedies;

and you will love me with the

sincerity of wheat fields, the audacity

and honesty of sand dollars and

so many starfish. it may be in January,

but the entire day will be infused

by the passion of bees in June;

the order of long afternoons and golden

evenings of October.

 

we shall recall-

our first childhood visit to the beach;

that fear of drowning in sight

of dry land, the sting of salt water

inhaled. the determination to

master the elements with our bodies;

the love of discovery. and

we will hold each other on tiny platforms

of pearl and silver, we will watch the

sunset and eat ice cream, we will

ask ourselves what took us so long, we will

wonder if seagulls really cry out

for our freedom, and theirs.

 

mostly-

we will look closely at the pictures

we take, with magnifying glasses

and glasses of wine, field guides

to human emotions;

and we will ask if it was

already too late to begin. if some

Tuesdays never arrive between

Monday and Wednesday. if love

can ever overcome hunger, if days

ever stand still long enough to have

their portrait taken. and all I will know

to say is, “those fears will not be what

matter. one day.”

 

Author's Note

This piece was written for the greatest unrequited love of my life. A "what-if?" piece. Lots of moving parts and no definites.

Picture is my own. It is a hibiscus flower in bloom from a place where a friend and I stopped for lunch last year.

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Ant that is a day worth waiting for... We all deserve to be loved and keeping faith and having patience we will find it when we least expect it.

P.S. No one deserves love more than you.

[JMaster1]

I know that day will come,
You wrote a beautiful poem , as always