Eventually I will miss you forever

Beneath falling oak leaves and behind

the Second Lutheran Church

beyond a fuchsia fused fall sunset

above Main Street’s hardware store

a second-hand ’74 Plymouth is parked and

bisected by the early moonlight shadow

of the Saturday evening steeple above

its interior illuminated by dashboard radio

Top 40 tunes softly sent from the transmission towers of

Charm City to the south

 

Before you find something

you have to look for it

and after I’d longingly looked for you

in all the wrong places

and in all of the wrong people

I rediscovered you

in an early eighties

church hall high school dance

just a stone’s throw from the

following morning’s body and blood

 

With an old Virgin hanging lonely above

and a new one swaying in front of me

singing sweet autumn syllables

as soft as early spring

twisted fingers and glancing lips

evening expanding and world closing in

you forgave my trespasses

with a soft swirling slow dance kiss

that either delivered me from

or aimed me directly at evil

 

The dance floor became

a mix of marginal swaying sin

and attempted long-term love

or one night wonder

Friday night corduroy friction

attempting to ignite a fire or something else

the din turned the sanctuary into

a two-story babbling tower

we exited in a professional DJ recessional

of Simon and Garfunkel and moon and stars

ending silently at my back of the lot car

where you shoved your hands deep

in my Levi’s pocket as if digging

for a bottom of the box Cracker Jack prize

while I paused for a stained glass second

inhaling oak, Anaïs, and October

with arms around your sweater

and chin atop your head

I had one eye closed to the future and

the other looking towards a

street corner phone booth confessional

while trying desperately

to force myself to forget that

eventually I will miss you forever

Steven Harz