It is now spring in Kansas City, a season that provides a lot more opportunities for what this poem is about. If, that is, we’re willing to let go of winter.

the wave

i felt a cool morning breeze
as i walked along the road

soon i passed a neighbor
with his dogs

another perfect day
he said
to which i couldn’t but agree

with little traffic on the road
it was the kind of walk 
on which you didn’t carry
any load

across the road
i saw a woman
setting out her trash

i watched her as i walked

having crossed her lawn
she reached her porch
stepped through her doorway
and turned back toward the street

i saw her door begin to close

at first she didn’t notice
and i almost looked away
for the moment
quickly fading
had no plans to stay

she did it

she had waved

her gesture gave me brief delight
after all
a further push
and she’d have simply disappeared from sight

i know it’s just a wave 
of which i shouldn’t make too much
and i know it will not take away
our burdens pains and such 
yet as i ruminate
i cannot help but think 
that as we walk through life
we still can wave 
across the roads that separate

From Random Lore © 2019 Charles Schlee