I am waiting
For what I am not sure
The restlessness of an eve of new beginnings
As much as for friends to walk through this door
In neon red the street is lit
As if trying to shine a spotlight on something worth remembering
But the streets are half-deserted and walls stained with piss
Soaked in the stench of regret
Desperation seeps like smoke over polished shoes
That don’t wait long enough to dwell;
They side step its clutches, rushed on to ever brighter things
And I the observer hidden in glass
Am as much in their dance of avoidance.
Inside this bar a strange optimism hangs
A refuge of chatter, of drinking, of laughs
A space out of time
Could be minutes
Could be hours that have passed.
Through this door in this room
I know where joy is
Here in these plastic chairs and hopeful eyes
I know where laughter is
There it is hidden in the curve of his mouth
I know where hope is
It’s built into this tapestry around us
All of us
Grinning and huge like the Cheshire Cat,
Smiles lingering even after our bodies have left,
A thread of joy loose from where he sat,
The texture of her silver laugh,
Woven into the fabric of this evening.
Theirs are the faces I hope to see again
And I know there will be time
More time than I care to imagine
For in there I felt what had passed.
In that moment we were all the same
We have lived and re-lived it all
Inscribed in me, each person’s dreams
Who sat in this chair once before.
We swell and recede
In patterns preceding
Caught up in the flow of connection ~
Didn’t we once talk of the future in here
Dressed in our slacks, ties a-loosened
Afraid at the sight of a decade expiring
All we wanted was to be remembered
Drinking away cold death in chilled beer
We felt safe in our preservation.
For I have held each moment on my tongue
Crackling in desire and life, tasted its zest and wanted more;
But each secret shared is a whisper
A quiet intimate holiness
Suspended behind this door
I do not dare to disturb it.
Despair slithers beyond these walls
Waiting to coil around each thread and tear
These moments are made to be kept in this place
For it is here that they will sit in constant chatter
Each smile infectious, passed face to face
Time to create and renew
But in a moment of quiet they’ll hear it
The silvery whispers of memories dissolved
Resonating in the power that it holds
She sat here and wrote as she waited.
A moment of warmth and connection
Both sheltering from the cold.
