The Devil You Don’t

The Devil You Don’t

There was a
Pretty person
Sitting next to me
Who’s shoulder I leaned on
Who’s arms were wrapped around
Me to seldom let go.

Something
About all the familiars
And their bouts of déjà vu
Swarmed through me as if to
Tell my mind that pain was happening
Because I wasn’t aware.

I can recall
The pigeon with its
Message that asked me
To meet this person here before
We were meant to share a café lunch
Down the block.

Dim lights
Of the theater and
Stage supporting actors
Below our balcony seats to
Watch a play in the early afternoon
After walking uptown.

I can remember
A casual comment
On my old cane and coat
Where pockets were loose
And the old hilt silver tarnished
Where I held it.

It had been
Six months since
The last pigeon delivered
A message to me on its leg
And I had been on a streetcar trolly
Not far from here.

I sipped
My drink and
Placed it on an
End table near our two seats
With my free hand and held my
Sender with the other.

Leaning
My head back
On the brick and mortar
Work of a building much more
Ancient than I could ever hope to
Be,

Wondering
If the masked actors
On stage there ever were
Second guessed during their
Day-to-day life or if they all acted
However so naturally.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s