We decided to walk. It wasn’t far.
I attempted conversation. My efforts were not matched.
We walked in silence.
The sun shone, warmth on my skin. Softened by the breeze.
A perfect day.
Silence, but for the leaves.
I removed my glasses.
From realism to impressionism in a breath.
Royal Poinciana, baby mangoes and palms.
Sweet red flowers we licked when we were young.
Leaves rolled past my feet.
I saw my house. Like the one in Haiti.
Arch after arch, after arch…
Wrought iron and rocking chairs, on the porch.
There I was. Rocking.
In a white cotton dress.
Deep inhalations, linseed oil and paint.
Cooking. Someone was cooking. I was cooking.
The sound of drums and laughter.
Life. A life well lived.
Beneath me was life, and I was happy.
Quietly experiencing joy from the balcony above.
He opened his long arms wide as we walked.
He saw a friend.
Glasses firmly in place.