Monday, May 28, 2012

88. Footfalls in the Dark

You are behind me:
I know it’s you.
The balmy night-time
buzzes in a certain way
with a certain electricity;

I half-smile to myself:
you’re running.
The pitter-patter
draws nearer, closer,
and I don’t know if I am supposed
to turn or not…

but I do.

And I can see your huge grin
light up the midsummer

I’m smiling too.
Our rhythms meld to one,
as your footfalls slow and mine
quicken again.

Our footfalls ring in the dark,
we could be mistaken for one

We walk together for only
moments, twenty-three steps,
before we part ways
and you drive off, in your

and I am alone.
I am not sure whether to feel
ecstatic or dejected,
but I continue walking:
footfalls still ring out in the
silent, muggy night;
but they belong to me,
and no one is chasing after me

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One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.

- Emily Dickinson