"Here Was I We Are" and "Late Stage"
Here Was I We Are
Her face
I step toward
I'm standing
behind
her eyes
seeing
with my eyes
through
her eyes
night.
We
look down
sidewalk
curb
gutter
asphalt pocked black
We
look up
doorways lights
headlights
white yellow
then tail lights
red curved lips and slashes
I
close
my
eyes
Hear
through
her
ears
muffled
a name
Mine Hers
Neither
No matter.
She is
we are
walking.
Heels
like
finger
snaps.
Then -
BANG
running
vision
blinking
random
frac-tur-ing
She-I
stumble trip fall
air like deep water
Her/My/Our
hand
stretches catches breaks
our
fall
then
plain air
clear sight
night
I
Me
I
watching
rushing
have rushed
am
helping
her
warm
night
warm
Facing -
Are you…?
Yes
Good.
Late Stage
(Nap Time at Nordie’s)
Taking a break
in an easy chair
in a nicely appointed
department store
Surrounded by
glass and stainless steel
Surrounded by
purses shoes
wallets pens
watches
Breathing cool
conditioned air
relaxed
slipping away
falling in falling out.
Chimes subtle
in the deep background
chimes
in the
deep
chimes.
Body temp dips
just a bit
slow pulse slows
jaw relaxes
head
drops
&
jerks
drops
&
jerks
eyes slide open
scan watery surroundings
murmurs like a helpful lift
from a fellow diver
seem to bring me up
to surface
where rheostats hum.
She says: We’re almost done…
Eyes flutter
and close again.
On the wine dark sea
an eighteen story
ocean liner
slowly
slowly
capsizes.
After a brush with the grim reaper at age seven, Richard Wells sat down at his family’s Remington, and started his autobiography. In one form or another, that’s all he’s been writing ever since, and he’s now 73. Richard and his wife split their time between Seattle, WA, and Guanajuato, Mexico. Richard recommends 350Seattle.org.