Monday, November 26, 2012

Crossing Paths

Crossing Paths
By: James Dubeau

A few flakes of snow
Drifted past
My fogged over glasses
And frozen white breath
Greens turned yellow
Then to red
And I pushed off
Feet struggled to find traction
Upon my peddles
As my bike rolled
Across the empty crosswalk
I looked up
My vision filled
With a large symbol
Which I once knew well
I stumbled
I peddled
I got out of the way
Movement washed cold wind
Across my face
Clearing fog and improving vision
I turned to see
The flaxen haired motorist
Who hadn’t graced my presence
Since the sun was hot
And Cajun music
Wafted through the air
Our eyes did not meet
She had turned to fiddle
With something in the back seat
The light turned green
And she was gone
But the memories of days gone by
Flooded back
And I wondered if I would ever
Grace the tavern again
To put down money
For beers and the gambling of meat

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