Had I Seen You

Another face, a glimpse of eyes,
curve of bone lit soft,
a shine in window light.
Could that be you.
Shorn and worn,
a baby we should share
slack asleep across your shoulder.
That might be you.
Struggling with the bag, so tired,
so right in every way,
except so way so far, so far away.
Would I approach.
My memory breaching a busy minute of a hectic life,
a sea monster rising, smiling, How ya doin’?
Terrified. Lost.
Lonely and emptied of all loves but one,
your eyes would say, and seek the child.
Could I allow too ready chipper nonsense,
the just right hug, the we should get together lie.
Would I slip a long cool knife of knowing past your guard
to touch your heart just once.
Would I cheery back and let you, let you, let you, walk away.
Then what, forever?

Alan Hodge is a writer and poet from the southeastern USA. He is retired from wage slavery, corporate media twaddle, religion, and all loves but one. Read other articles by Alan.