oldpoems
Something Else.
Something Else.
Hilltop celebrations
and a sunset
met with
close encounters,
of a kind
that renders
blind
with
sudden
vision.
Be it whim,
or wish,
or prayer,
a certain
‘something’
took us there,
to unplanned
places.
Liquor bent
the hours
into
watching
one another’s
movements.
Weaving,
cheerful,
in and out of
party
group-lets.*
Mystics speak
of chance
and I cannot
help thinking
‘something’
stirred beyond
the drinking…
something
earnest?
‘Something’
in your grace,
your fire-lit face,
your front
teeth space,
your voice
inside my ear,
a certain
comfort
overcame
the fear
of wrongings.**
The grassy
bush side edges
found us
longing for
and
leaning in,
to forehead touch
and fleshy brush
to lips
that dripped
with
maybes.
So back we go
to what will be,
to lives we know,
and still for me,
I’m moved
to tell you
formally,
that
what we shared,
was truly
something Else.
* a made-up word
** also a made-up word
