Wandering down a familiar stretch of road, winter and spring chasing each other overhead.
The light fades and the whole world slips in shades of shadowy blues and blacks and purples.
Not a bruised or hidden pallet of paints,
rich and fragrant and full of mischief.
Twilight, a fleeting window. The closest some of us ever come to the truth.
She slips away like a dream, a longing that calls out to you.
And just as quickly you begin to forget…
Whisked into the darkness, under the stars and the mysteries that have been just above, just ahead.
All of this.
All along.
There is a mile stretch of water cut in half by a roadway
A stretch I have paced along countless times
We have almost touched here.
You. Always leaving.
Taking to the sky like a specter or some thick-skinned creature of the sea.
Gliding below its surface.
I have admired your lines.
The quiet, powerful way that you move.
Your indifference to my constant agonizing disassembly.
And then tonight. Here you stand.
Your perfectly melancholy coat....azure and iron.
Some ethereal extension of the fading light.
For a moment that felt like an eon.
You let me see you.
And then you turned and walked away.
Long legs breaking the surface of the water, gently disturbing its surface.
A small sound accompanied only by the rustling of the wind.
Out of sight, disappearing to claim your place against the mountainside.
One door closes, two more begin to slide open.
© Elizabeth McLaughlin
