The idea was to sweep you aside
Since it was long past the time
When I’d be showing up at your door,
Not in my former role as lover,
But as an interested
Observer who just liked watching you evolve.

You even joked about it when
We spoke on the phone.
“Still cruising by to see how I’m doing?”
You’d put it, with that chuckle in your
Voice and the lilt of anticipation behind it
Because I always sensed you would be
Disappointed if I ever said “no.”

But that was when? When I was younger
And had world enough and time to ponder
The mysteries of limerent attraction.
When all the stalking I was doing
Was equally divided between finding you
And trying to put a leash on the inner beast in me.

You know, the one who couldn’t ever tell you why
He was doing what he did.

Well, I mean, I knew why.
Once upon a time, you rescued me from
The belief I was incapable of caring
For another human being.
For that you own a special place on the mantel
Of the Heart, and my lifelong
Wish that your ship of life
Only sails on the gentlest swells.

But when we did eventually meet face-to-face
We split again, this time because I finally
Realized those really were windmills against which
I was tilting those rose-colored lances.

That was when you finally admitted
The he who always floated your boat was
The one that got away… way, way back when

Good news of a sort. I hold out hope that the
One who preceded you, the cause of the car wreck
That was most of my younger life, might
Think the same way you did. That she might take the same stock
Of her bucket list as I do mine. That we’ll both find a way
To effect that casual collision we’ve been putting off for years.

Not to diminish you in any way:
You were the absolute genesis of the words I put to
Paper and dared to call them poems.
For that, and the memories, I owe you large

But you should know this:
The roadway past your house is safe
And has been for twenty years
And any thought you have that I still might idle by
Is just whimsy, and yours alone.

Still, I never forgot the eighteenth is your birthday
So that’s one more gift you can unwrap slowly
And one more candle you can extinguish with a smile

03/19/2015

Author's Note: To K. T. H. - Happy birthday... yet again

Posted on 03/19/2015
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch