book endings

on the bench they sat

uneasily silent

early spring sun

beating down on their backs

no longer strangers

yet neither friends

sublimely unsure of the other

“hello, my name is —“

and a handshake

would’ve sufficed

were it not for her

paranoid pride

shyness a selfish excuse

on stones they sat close

maintaining the silence

between them in shade

of late summer leaves

no longer rovers

yet neither content

to keep a term undefined

history and mystery

love-language and lore

eyes between brown

and mossy tree green

nevermind that he’s blind

and can’t feel anything

together they sat

forgetting the silence

mid-autumn fires

crackling cheerily on

no longer angered

yet neither in love

laughing into the wind