The Day of Our Meeting

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I dreamed of the day,
In the dead of winter,
A dreary day,
When I’d step off the train
And see you there-
The day of our meeting-
Yet like two old friends
Reuniting
After years apart,
The warm embrace
Of your hug
Making me forget
The ice cold season.
We’d sit upon some rocks
And stare out at
A barren wasteland,
The fog from our breath
As we spoke
Of all the deepest things.
And I would lay my head
On your shoulder
And notice the scent
Of your long blonde hair.
And perhaps we would
Sit real close,
And not for the sake
Of keeping warm.
And our two souls
Would feel as one
As we’d stare out at
The frozen desert land.
Your voice would sound
Just as I imagined it,
Your hand exactly
As I thought it would feel,
In mine.
And I would never want
Another thing in my life-
Your friendship.
I dreamed of the day.
For so long
I dreamed of the day,
In the dead of winter,
A dreary day,
When I’d step off the train
And see you there-
The day of our meeting-
But I find only myself
Sitting here,
In the bitter cold winter,
Staring out at
The empty wasteland,
Alone,
As the rusty metal fence
Digs into my spine.

___

The featured image, ‘Buffer’, was used with permission of artist, Robert Alan, a mixed media artist from New York City.  

Amara Nova

Amara Nova wanders the world like a ghost, and through her art, captures everything her hungry soul consumes. A life poet and philosopher, she inspires people to open up their hearts, their minds, and their souls.

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