Monday, March 22, 2021

 VII
The Nothing Man walked to the Nothing Woman, a virus in their souls
A memory of nothing, only a sense of what was
He and the vagrant young men moved along a line of sickness for a homeless meal
The Nothing Man in his rust cap
His pulled-up collar frayed at the edges
The Nothing Woman in white poured warm soup in the cold November Rain
The line of men touched their lips to the small bowls and drank from her kindness
The Nothing Man stood near...he sensed his nameless lover in the summer garden when she said Idaho...
 
"Come," she said. "Just you and me, we can float to Idaho. See the hills and valleys from above. Our spirits in eternal love. We'll sing each other's name, and listen to it echo forever young in the cold, pure air."

He laughed. "You know, I will fly to Atlantic City tomorrow with my bachelor friends. Play Taj Mahal. When I come back we will marry, and float our souls to Idaho."
 

 
 
 

1 comment:

Brother Ollie said...

Keep pouring that kindness eh.

All the way to Idaho, and back.