The sun burning down on the dry grassy field, the slight, cooling breeze that moves toward me behind your auburn hair, your slender golden arms that enfold me, letting me know I have been away too long.
We nervously talk, walking back to my truck, we sit across from each other, wonder in each other’s eyes at the miracle that we can now see, touch each other by simply reaching out, the sun in your face, your voice that I hear, the lips that smile at me, slowly begin to move my heart.
I have all of you before me, yet I am powerless to act. It is you, from my child-hood, from my earliest and brightest days, the one who gave essence to my dreams, who made all things in my future seem attainable, you who have now come to me in the summer of my life to reset the fire of long years ago.
The afternoon moves way from us, our warm sun falling and we both work at “easy” conversation that comes any way except easily, feeling our way, each back into the other’s life, not wishing to trespass where we may not be welcome… I say “welcome” because neither of us knows the limits of where we go now, moving slowly, cautiously, with a sense of desperation, but further…further yet.
Sitting across from you now, gazing at you over the twinkling crystalline glasses, wondering who you are and knowing I may never know… I am afraid you may decide you have come for nothing, I am, after all, only me and I remember. I could not suffer that twice so I rein in my feelings like a poker player and carefully watch my hand. You laugh so easily, you take life so easily, you are on vacation and perhaps I am a unique distraction. I fear this as I guard my words to your questions that at times sound like an inquisition. There are moments when I do not know why I am here.
We move slowly down the bright night evening streets in the dark cab… I can almost feel yesterday in having you next to me. Talking now easily of familiar things, our music, our times, you and I… the cool of the evening takes the sting out of the newness we feel, pulling at last down old, narrow streets that once were the way home, parking by your car, you are out and rush to my side, you grasp my head to your shoulder, kiss me easily and whisper how good it is to be with me again… and I am yours. The simple gesture was always your forte’.
Walking across the empty main street to the café near midnight, I sense you want my hand in yours and I almost seize it, yet I hold back. I may be wrong, you are on vacation and I don’t know where I belong in your life. Coming back to an empty table, for I have found a table out on the sidewalk in the cool night, you look for me and I am gone and I watch you from several feet away and was it a sense of loss I read on your face, really? I am amazed that perhaps it was… I saw the real you for an instant, a helpless, feeling woman who wanted me and I was gone and I am touched. My God… you may still care for me after all the many long years… still.
I am transported in time, back to the summer night shadows of after midnight-early morning when the Robin begins its new day song of life beginning again, I am transported back to that time we have tonight…by some wonderous magic, found again, when all of this between us was new and young and perfect and I thought, endless. We are there now as you touch me, hold me close and I can smell the fragrance of your hair, your body, you whisper in my ear how good it is and I believe you.
We lay in the early morning grass, the dew touching our bodies and we share the irrevocable thought that this may not happen again. You whisper, it will if I want it to and I know you are right. It will if I want it to, and I do. You are back in my life again. You are white hot fire that I hold in my hand. You can be cruel, you can be distant, you can be whoever you are for I may never know you really, yet I will be there for you. You have reset the fire of long years ago and the exquisite ecstasy of it all frightens me.
The knowledge that I kept from all the world about our life together was the same then as it may be now. Of the two of us, it may be I alone who bathes in the fires that consume love and passion and memory and time. After all, you are on vacation and may decide you have come for nothing. I remember, yet I remain for you.