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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2298679
A musical evening gives way to the blues
City pavement whizzes by
Streetlight reflections waver
As our tires splash through puddles.
You're always slightly ahead
But you know these cracked stretches
every faded brick, each hidden alley.

I don't mind tagging along,
catching your slipstream.
A cool night breeze whips my face
Laughing as I pedal harder
Trying to stay abreast
So I can share my breathless grin
And glimpse those tawny eyes.

There's an undercurrent in the air
stirrings of an adventure.
Every stop we make is unknown
to the stranger shadowing your step.
Yet they are all familiar haunts
old stomping grounds,
filled with years of history.

Sometimes I witness a faraway look
the thousand yard stare
taking you to a place
where I cannot follow.

After Time's veil lifts;
You return to me once more
with a new plan, a different venue.
Do you even have to ask?
We speed off down busy streets,
swerving around pedestrians,
racing the stoplights.

I marvel at your serenity:
chestnut locks flying,
eyes sparkling,
purely in your element.
Cars honk, drivers curse at us,
You couldn't give a damn,
more savage than this concrete jungle,
more brilliant than the rising moon.

At each location, hands wave
Cheers erupt, calling out to you.
Doesn't matter where we go,
the spotlight seems to follow.
And here I am,
basking in the presence of a celebrity.

It's a sea of hand shaking, introductions,
countless names and faces,
inside jokes, old stories,
decades of friendships.
It seems as if half the Genesee Valley
has crossed your path at one point.

All the sudden attention
compels me to find a quiet corner
content to let you thrive
but reluctant to share your stage.

It fills me with awe,
witnessing your effortless charisma;
floating through crowds
flitting from social bubbles
to new circles of acquaintances.

The evening flies by
and we are pedaling once more.
Homeward bound,
racing each other to the start.

I am surprised to find myself
already back, putting away bikes,
gathering clothing
and preparing for farewells.

This is it,
time to make the move,
but my feet are frozen.

You stand there, waiting.
The ball's in my court,
and I fail to catch it.

So blinded was I by you,
that when I regained my sight
you were already gone.

Your name means advisor, unique, and alone.
My name probably means
a blithering fool.

When I awoke, all that remained
was cold Thai noodles
and the ghost of you.
© Copyright 2023 Ray Scrivener (rig0rm0rtis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2298679-Jazz-Festival