Market Street Markers
Generously,
in another half-life,
we could have settled here
sans a vehicle, much square footage or even children
our rediscovered
carnal commitment
would be enough
stepping along the cobblestone
holding your hand
in my January coat pocket
exploring centuries
as much as each other
how an electrified kite flew
near a second-floor window
anticipating a scrawled
Declaration
our jokes, our puns, arcane
the mend-less possibilities
unveiled behind lager labels
& barstool terminal readings
palms up, gaze down
our laughter, a salutation
audible from the sidewalk
where we had asked for directions
suspending the digital glow
with the strangers of kindness
a gentle exchange
toward a stage on Jewelers’ Row,
our celebratory sway
ultimately concealed
within my avoidance
to the importance of feeling safe
in protective play
where the destructive effect
yielded your eventual exile,
the sunset
inevitable,
somewhere behind, say,
Independence Hall,
a graffiti lament
& old steeples deceptively tall,
the fossilized tributes
all slipping
into the encroaching
darkness of
abandonment.
Sweet poem of the foibles and fables of love lost. A little sad and pensive.
To answer your pre- query - I didn't equate your words to anything political.
The pic is quite horrifying, political and revealing though.