In the after
math of differential
events
equations of beginning
past tense and present
structural sentiments
to keep the language breathing
thin letters, strung on thinner
phonic wires:
integrity
hope
and
(always and)
a sense of you
float the space
between before
and begun–
a risk
worth making
I wish I could say it was the
Christmas lights, but I’m not sure.
It could have been the songs.
The way you drove your car.
When I laughed into my mittens.
Just the stars in a winter night.
I wish I could say it was the
stars.
And yet I am half sure it was the
darkness – the unknown that stood
before and after the moment.
There we were: snow, snow, and us
in the dangerous part of town, the
way I wanted to lean in and say,
“Here we are.”
But I wasn’t sure enough whether
it was the songs, or just Christmas,
so I closed my eyes instead.