While driving home once East, once South. I saw eyes looking right through me. Walking in the opposite direction. I saw flying toward me the same penetrating gaze, on a different day. The same eyes on a bird of prey. Dog lay dead by the side of the road. Heart dripped blood on the phone pole. The power went out I kept the candle close to see. I heard him singing while working atop the power pole. The air carried his voice well. I walked each day no destination planned. I found my way, or it found me. When I looked toward the train tracks I saw those eyes look back at me. Wherever that time went I'm sure it's still there waiting for the chance to resolve all that could still be.
It's not what you think it's what you believe. Patricia '96
