To B.P.
From the main road,
to the secondary road,
to the side road,
to the dirt road,
I drove an hour through the countryside
to meet you at the park by the water,
to be together and alone at our meeting place.
We had no good excuse to see each other,
except for our lightning,
which was nobody’s business but our own.
You said no one ever made you a picnic like that.
***
We walked among the stones,
and read the old-time names,
and made up stories of their lives.
We asked each other the unvarnished questions,
and gave each other the unvarnished answers,
and I taught you the names of the mushrooms,
and you taught me the names of the flowers.
We found your family name, and we found mine, too.
It delighted us both, like magic.
You sat on the moss, and I sat on the grass.
You smoked a cigarette, and I watched you,
and my eyes were smiling, and your eyes were smiling, too.
You said no one ever took you to a cemetery.
***
We took our aimless drives.
We swung on swings like children at ease.
We canned tomatoes from your garden.
We talked about the past.
We talked about the future.
We talked about God.
You introduced me to your children.
You said no one ever gave you a foot rub.
***
You told me you had only two rules:
No kissing, and no saying ‘I love you.’
We broke the first rule almost immediately,
which didn’t seem to faze you,
and you disappeared completely
when I broke the second one.
You said you didn’t want to hurt me with your chaos.
Copyright 2023 Kesel Wilson (entirely, 100% human-created)
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Kesel Wilson 