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

Headlights

Grill

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