A he.
A blond he.
A balding blond
he. Took me
out for walks
pointed to tree bark
and saw something
else said something
else read a book danced
poorly. We were
in a field in the dead
or night with invisible
cows we could hear them
standing in the dark
munching waiting.
He cupped his
hands began to moo.
I was surprised.
I was embarrassed.
I fell in love.
He broke an ice chunk
across my legs.
I led him
into a wasp's nest.
He sustained eleven stings.
He said things
we all say when
we aren't thinking.
I threw words
like dishes
watched them shatter
willing the shards
to embed
in his skin.
I was surprised.
I was embarrassed.
I fell in love.
I walked home
in the dark one
hundred times
and the cold car rattled
carrying our telephone
voices to each other.
Sometimes they didn't make it.
A brown-eyed he.
A white-skinned he.
A narrow-footed
he. Walked under
my tree.
Waved to me.
We moved away from
one another in
other ways.
We changed courses.
We made promises
broke those promises
made new promises
decided those promises
were out of fashion.
We grew stubborn
in our commitment.
I saw him the other day
years ago
walking in a red shirt
staring at his shoes
with a pinched
brow and eyes lost
in a tiny universe.
He was
making his way
toward me
without knowing it.