Let Me Linger Here: A Poem

Let me linger here;

recall the beauty of breathing.

I stare out your window

at the autumn aspens among the green;

Old Blue creeping slowly up

gravel crunching lightly under its tread.

I pat Old Blue’s dash

whisper, “You’re doing great, sweetie”

struggling up this mountain. 

I internalize the compliment, 

turn my face so you won’t see

the tears threatening to spell betrayal.

I can’t help but smile

thinking of her explanation

“beauty does this to me.”

Such a simple, deceptive statement.

Beauty only makes you cry

once you’ve forgotten it exists for you.

You round a corner

and say something casually

I return your look, but

perhaps you pretend not to notice

in my eyes the deep impact

when God reminds you why you are still alive.