hesitating reality

I could hear you breathe

in the gestures of everyday living

I could see you in the noon of lunch hour footsteps

when the angle of the light traversed your own footfall.

I felt you in the rush hour of 5 P.M traffic

when coffee pots brewed and kitchens were lit with the light of afternoon warmth

colliding  with my thoughts.;

my hands tightening around the wheel of what I thought was real..

I hesitated as the  nighr fell upon my slippered foot in a room filled with

 the words of  poets long gone;.

 my glass of wine growing empty in the amber light. of a conversatiom aimlessly played against the hands of a clock on the wall.

I felt the nuance of your breath in every string of my violin

as I played to an audience of ghosts.

Care i did not for the corriidors of shallow wealth.

for

in that moment

I composed the reality of love

as your smile tripped over my memory

of you staring into my eyes from the breath of the wind;

the hands of the clock stilled by an amber light.;

a hesitation in reality..