Second Avenue
In the experience of a great love, everything that happens becomes an event related to that love. ~ Romano Guardini
As I drive by the place you last breathed,
suddenly I am just a heart behind the wheel
and you, a big blue sky-like lung I cannot see
the end or beginning of.
There is so much space within your rib cage:
I could drive a thousand miles
and never leave your love.
I pass a corner coffee shop.
You always wanted tea, very sweet.
A black man in a Yankee cap
won’t wait to cross the street.
I brake.
He expects hostility.
I search his startled face.
He wears your race and team.
I am the heart that needs you
blue or brewed or jaywalking.
March 2, 2019
Dance of Death Poetry Contest
Copyright © Rita A. Simmonds | Year Posted 2019
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