I Want to Share Poems
The October wind has picked up once again
As I hurry out my front door
The autumn chill bites through my wool sweater
Stealing my warmth away from me
Night owls are larking at the tree tops
And are asking that ominous question of...who
A distant train calls out it's own somber cry
Crying out it's own question of...why
Owls, trains, and the sound of wind gusting through the bony trees
All hymning this night's sorrow
With shrouded clouds, in mourning, right above the hills
The 9 O'clock Gun has shot it's final warning it seems
I pick up my pace as the echos from the town's clock gun
Ricochets off the hills and into the lake
Her bus is scheduled to leave at nine fifteen
She will leave without knowing my true love for her
I was such a fool for not making it clear all this time
And now that time is slipping away by the minute
Misplaced love disguised as friendship has now come with a price
I should have known by the way she kissed me that day
That it came from her heart
But my shyness had apprehended my chance to return it back to her
She smiled at me and whispered "That's ok, you are my darling no matter what"
But I saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes
As I knew she expected a kiss in return
The way she carried her voice and how she offered her smiles
Always made me feel caught and held in her beauty
And then, like a dream, spun in circles by her mother's eyes
I cut through the school yard and down Turtle Park path
Tripping my way through the empty streets
With those greedy parking meters trying to grab at me and steal my quarters
And the condescending moon smirking it's smile on the town
For some odd reason, a memory of the ending of the movie "Carlito's Way"
Had just flashed in my mind as I turned the corner
The smell of the bakery mixed in with Joe's Diesel Shop
Only made me run faster down 3rd street
And past her favorite book store "Chimes"
She would buy pocket books there and slip them in my backpack
And she would phone me later to tell me to read her favorite mystery
Now will I ever get to read another one of her favorites again
The Greyhound bus sign now flashes up one block ahead
Taxis, cars, and people all moving in and out the parking lot
Like they weren't sure if they were coming or going
A mother waving at her son who is off to college
Both are putting on a brave face but are failing at it
I am holding a letter I wrote that should have been spoken with words
I search out for her, looking for her bus departure
"Mister, has the nine fifteen left already?"
"Yes son, it left right on schedule."
I swear I died inside that night
As I was leaving, I saw three little books neatly stacked on a bus bench
Her favorites sat there with worn out corners on them
The crickets suddenly stopped chirping
The night train now has passed through town blowing it's empty whistle
Disappearing into the long hills..asking the far away question of...why?
~ ESR ~
