it's the only explanation
I have for trying to give
directions to an old woman--
stout and ruffled, dressed in
red dress with black jacket
signs of years on its cuffs--
directions to a place
I'd never heard of,
in a city I barely know
she smiled a kindness
at my attempt because
that is what we do with
the clueless among us--
we smile at them
recognize our own desire
to help, even when impossible
I pull out the GPS
start coordinates while
she tells me she lived
on this very street when
it was jeweled with houses
instead of quaint shops
that she recognized one
of the galleries as the home
of her best friend when she
was ten, that they had run
up and down these streets
chasing each other and their
own dreams, that she didn't
know now where her best friend lived
For this moment I was glad
for how long it can take for
satellites to line up with
a smart phone--how else
would I have had the time
for her stories?
© Valerie Bridgeman
May 10, 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment