by Christopher Raley

I thought I knew what I had in the lot.

Locking the dark grey truck, she jostled the bed.

Eyes, a smile. Her scent. In the cafe

she covered my face and poured sugar in her tea

as some old guy laughed, winked at his wife.

We left the cafe for sidewalks, storefronts,

angled shadows reaching our desperate hands.

Streetlights lit our eyes’ separate directions.

Driving north through night I saw the old couple

watching two kids in love and raising stiff joints

from hard chairs against cramped hips, aching knees.

Did we bring up some quiet, shared memory?

Were they, once upon a time, so sure love

could be the one static creature in all life’s motions?

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