The Walk

I dream of growing old with my husband in hopes that we will forever be in love. This poem is dedicated to him.

The Walk

 

 

We lock hands

but, we don't see each other.

Promenading the pavement

breathing the same air

feeling disconnected, but still share a laughter

 

Observing the nature of which

beauty stands alone, can

we stay here? My heart

is complacent- like aged whiskey

to a glass, here we stand.

 

The cobblestoned walkway

is now stretched and blurry

for old eyes to span far.

As the crisp breeze graze

through my hair, my thoughts are gathered

 

An agile moment allows the contemplated questions

but lost in each other's glow,

we stare without the consciousness of

what surrounds us, my peripherals close in,

have we become an us?

 

A dim eclipse confines us

as if space was our atmosphere

hearing only the sound of a deeper silence

heard by the tone we set a lifetime ago,

I know that look. Given to me,

 

a hug so pleasing and calm

as peace jolt through my body,

spoken-I'm all that I am because I see you

and you see me.

The tranquility of his voice; I'm adored