I sit down in my seat,
You dash in as always, hair flying and
give me a cheery hello. You
take your seat across the room from me.
Throughout the meeting you stare at me, but nothing else.
You close your eyes.
I see the pain on your face.
So, I close my eyes.
Waking up, I am in a canoe on a river.
The cold, dirty water is rushing by.
You are on the other side, frozen in a block
of ice. Eyes closed, arms tight to your side.
I paddle my canoe over and stare at the ice.
Reaching out a fingertip, I touch the ice.
You don’t waken.
The ice bobs on the water and then,
the current pulls it away, down the river.
The paddle is across my lap. Tears fall down,
land on the backs of my hands.
But the current is swift. I must avoid the rocks and tree stumps.
I paddle my canoe.