Other People's Feelings
She turned to me with haunted look
Atop the spires of her pain,
I took her to my house and bed
And made it snow, and sleet, and rain
Her brown hair tumbled everywhere,
As she arched back in focus pure;
I thought I’d known that haunted look,
But never could
Be sure
he watched things break on the edge of soft sweaters and hair that became flowers that became rain falling on the rooftops of distant houses where princes dreamed of being commoners, and commoners dreamed of killing princes a face that made him want to go to war in the vain hope she would wait for him and the more realistic hope that he would not return; for in the time of learning, the real education is in loss and disappointment and even ruin; for there are two currents in life, flowing in opposite directions: the wanting and the being wanted
[This happened in April of 2015.]
In quite a twist, I saw her at the park.
Full sixteen years since we’d our fateful date;
She now the age that I was then, and with
Two children now, of roughly four and eight
She called to me as I was walking by
I didn’t recognize her at first sight;
But when she smiled, I knew right away
So I walked towards her in the dusky light
We sat down on a bench as her kids played
She told me of her marriage and her work
I told her all these years I hadn’t known
If she looked back on me as just some jerk
She said she’d opened up her heart to me
And at the time, she didn’t understand
But as she grew she realized that I
Had tried to be to her a gentleman
I told her of my family and my son
Who she could not believe is twenty now
I looked at those two images of hers
We’d stayed as long as my time would allow
And as I turned to walk away I said
That I was truly happy her to see
She hugged me for an instant, then I left
Still, I think, as shocked as I could be
I got back to my car at almost-night
So glad that I’d, just once
Done something
Right
When my ex left, our youngest was
But three years old – alas –
So I would take him daily to
A little pre-k class
The girl who worked there was so young
But seemed to like the way
I’d sit with him – and other kids –
Beginning every day
So, finally, I asked her out
And she said that she would
So I drove out to get her
When she said it would be good
And she came out to meet me
Well before I’d left my car;
And it struck me, so I asked her
Before I had gone too far
Exactly just how old she was
“Um, twenty” – her head hung —
She looked up, her eyes pleading
Asking if that was too young
“Oh, no, no – you’re age suits you”
That was all I thought to say
But I knew I wouldn’t go on
Any further in this way
So post-dinner, I told her
Gently, how much fun I had
And then I took her back home
To her mother and her dad
And said, “I will not lie to you:
I will not call again,
But if I may, I’d like to say
To you now, as a friend:
You’re beautiful and charming,
And if ages weren’t in play,
I’d probably want to call you
From the end of the driveway.”
But she was not placated
As we both felt something strike:
The pain of liking someone
Who it is
Just wrong
To like
The things we learn when we’re not there
Can lead us far from anywhere:
To hollowness, and lives of pain,
And using maybe half a brain
Far from the tumult and the pain He can be himself again There in the quiet and the glow Of the world of long ago Far from the anger and the hate Maybe you can well relate There is a time when worries cease There on the path of truth And peace
This road and I are much the same: It goes nowhere, but faithfully. It isn't made from finest stuff But gets the job done well enough. And so this is my claim to fame: To place these words here carefully, And say as little as I can, But hope to get the job done in that span.
The hardest day she ever spent Was not a rotten day at all; It isn't ease that brings us joy, Or frees us from our heartache's thrall It is in living that life is. It sounds so simple, but it's not: And she knows now, how hard's the way To take life in, when giving's all She's got
The body tells us everything But we're not great at listening To what are limitations are -- On pathway, or in house, or bar -- And so, we everyday conclude That we should, still, ourselves delude And try again our lives to make In just an hour, what we take the other twenty-three to break
