By Rachel Vargeletis | Observer Contributor
“But why are we really here”
he asked her
soft in the beginning,
a harsh word plummet
by the last word.
The ducks swam in their
safe little lines.
And that soft lilac breeze
going by it all
somehow couldn’t cushion
the blow of what was to come.
They both walked in the park,
as couples do.
They looked at the scenery,
talked about her new job
and his great grades.
But he could sniff out that
melancholy undertone of
her essence.
She had brought him here
on a Sunday afternoon for
more than just a view of ducks.
“Anna”
she met his bright silvery pooled gaze
with her own dismal brown glance.
And it hovered at her mouth
for a minute or two.
It had to be done,
but his hair was waving
in the wind so easily,
and his brow furrow
almost caused her hand to
reach out and smoothe it.
Her mouth formed that first word-
the hardest part of it all-
but his hand looked so empty
without her own in it.
And the broadness of his shoulders
looked so heavy and weighted,
she found it hard not to wrap her arms around them.
“Anna”
She looked back up at his
wide eyes and trembling lip
and could almost feel the prickly
skin of his awfully shaven face
in her hand with the great feeling
that came along with holding a world
in your own palm.
It is at the end of everything that
she realizes how “everything”
he really was to her.
A smile, potentially inappropriate
to the situation, crept to her face
as she thought about his own.
“Let’s keep walking”
She made her smile as soft
and as inviting
as she possibly could.
Then took that hand
in her own once again
as they walked down the path together.
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