I Stood On The Ledge

I stood on the ledge
and all I saw were
buildings and
roads and
buses and
bridges
of you.

And I don't know
if it's
the habit or
the idea or
the imprint or
the touch
I miss

Or the gallant you
if there even was
ever such a thing

And I didn't know
if I should put my foot forward
or take a step backward
or close my eyes and just hop
into the bright blue air
And just see if I can land
on hope and a place called
Bliss

Because I just don't know
If you were real or just an
apparition or a figment of
some youthful imagination,
or perhaps an intoxication of hope,
jack daniels and summer.

But as I inch towards air,
the phone rings. . .
And I don't know if it's
worth turning around
and picking up only to
hear a telemarketer
or dad asking for another
errand to be done.

So I kneel down on the ledge
and I close my eyes and listen
and I hear the larks in the sky
and the clip clop of pedestrians
and the laughter of children

And then I hear a beautiful sigh
It is the sound of my heart
taking in all that is alive
alive and beating without
even the shadow of you. . .

I stand up. . .
I turn. . .
I breathe.
____________________________________

I've been thinking about all the loves
we've all had and yet never fully understood. A boyfriend, a girlfriend
a best friend, what do they represent to us?  And when they are
gone, is it the habit in our
human landscape we miss?
Or so much more?