Rummaging for a pencil
in the glove compartment
He came upon a receipt
for two nights at
Half Moon Bay Inn
and he paused,
So still as though
catatonic,
Finding himself
once again
Eating, making love, smiling
with her
That colder-than-expected
June weekend,
When he bought a sweater
because he’d known
He wouldn’t need a coat
at The Coast
(after all,
it was nearly summer!).
She laughed and loved him
for his certainties,
And he replied in kind at being
always young with her,
So near the bull’s-eye
of his complicated
Requirements of love
by which one moves
Along an arc
of ageless youth
To a predictable end
fearlessly,
As long as they
were together —
He started, startled by
a squirrel on the hood,
Peering through the windshield,
chittering “Are you OK?”,
And discovered
a pencil in his hand.
He grinned,
and tossed it back,
No longer needed,
as she rapped on the window,
Bringing him herself
and a girl’s sweet smile.
Bluster & Absurdity 