It was a drawn out breeze
that shook free what was left.
A timid, though unrelenting thing that cast shade and shape
over our faces.
Summoning aged branches to sway.
Aged limbs, that threatened to break when they bent and tilted the light
which we trusted to show us the truth.
Turning foul the friend thought foe
to stand in unforgiving shadow.
Placing heartbreak’s color – raven,
to reign over eyes that once saw rose.
And my eyes did close at the breeze’s soft bidding.
Though closing, not to hide,
they closed to remember.
They chose to remember
the good they’d once seen.
He spoke with his hands
and moved with his heart.
Kept watch by his soul,
and felt in his spirit.
This quiet man known for his eyes,
endlessly dark and gentle.
Eyes that told so much
that words only proved to reiterate their point.
Eyes held up by a curve of laugh lines that also insisted upon smiling.
And he stood stories above my memory of him.
In my memory,
he was the sky.
Long after night attempted to sculpt itself into his goodbye,
long after those last words had faded – forgotten,
the thought still played softly in the background,
and whispered against the hollow halls of her recollection.
Telling secrets, now grown cold like autumn’s end.
And she shuddered at the chill,
and wrapped her arms a little tighter around her own heart.
Defending it against a memory.
Leaning into the idea of you.
Dancing with it.
Twirling, dizzy with the weight of you.
Lost but not yet gone.
Slowed down time – stamped wrong, but so true.
Still smitten by the thought that feels so alive it takes me dancing most nights.
He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass doors that held his old record player.
So much of his face had changed, but his eyes were the same.
His favorite song was playing.
It had been their song.
There was something about the way the music played through those old speakers.
The way the static, hiss added to the mood.
Making the song sound even older than it already was.
Giving it breath.
A hollowed sound, deepening the space it took up.
Changing the way the old man stood.
Lightening his weary frame as he remembered back when…
Transported, with eyes closed.
His heart did the dance that his body could no longer muster.
And he loved again like he had in his youth.
The music summoned feelings deep down that he’d given up on.
His thin hand on the speaker, and the other on his chest as he swayed slightly.
Their old song, opening an album of memories within him.
Unlocking the spirit of youth that had not aged a day.