Riding through the heart of the city this week, I passed a couple in the late evening. They were standing outside of a department store on the corner of an intersection, holding hands, smiling so giddily at each other that I could feel their energy from a distance. It was a wonderful moment to witness, and as I passed, I had the thought that I’ll probably remember this moment longer than they will.
Someday, when I’m older, and I’m thinking about happiness, I’ll have this memory of two strangers standing on a street corner, their fingers pressing longingly into the backs of each other’s hands, their eyes excitedly and lovingly exploring the depths of each other’s eyes.
And that thought led to another: that someday, when they’re older, and if they’re still together, that couple will probably wonder at least once why they ever got together in the first place. They’ll probably wonder at least once if they’ve ever actually been happy in each other’s presence.
And I thought, knowing what I now know of love and relationships, if only I could find them again, ten years in the future, and remind them of how happy they once were, leaving a department store on a Friday night just after sunset in mid-summer.
the thing I did most today,
wasn’t on my list.
as many times as it takes
for you to succeed.
the longing I felt today
with a net or with words.
Do they mock me as I pass?
Do they cheer for me?
remind them of how happy
there were together.
the painters of the world
bowed down to you.
and the trees all moaned like men
caressed in their sleep
