Posted in dream, poetry

Cover of Dusk

Cover of Dusk  I imagined their story as I walked by their house: a couple in their early thirties one year old daughter asleep in her room the dinner party winding down inside glasses of chardonnay clinking pearl necklaces and red lipstick smudges how they’d all been friends since college.  I slowed my pace as the haze of their perfection tightened in my throat, prey to the outsider’s perception: a brick walkway leading to their front door trimmed rose bushes  silhouettes mingling in light cast shadows through their windows.  A mosquito bit my arm, the signal to lengthen my stride, move past fantasies of someone else’s family, stop obsessing over picket white fences, the bad date I went on the night before, that it would be years,  before finding that dream for myself.   I walked on, cheeks soaking up the sweat and tears beading on my skin in the humidity, thankful at least for the setting sun, the cover of dusk to mask this headspace so no one would have to know that seeing their daughter’s swing hanging on a tree in their front yard made me cry.



Poetry and music.

10 thoughts on “Cover of Dusk

  1. Life is full of someone else’s dreams as blind we are of our own. This makes me feel sad, for I found myself the other day looking at couples riding in their motorcycle together while all I have is a solo sit on mine.

  2. I find myself imagining myself in someone else’s shoes a lot. Especially, when I go out to dinner, because I am typically solo at that time, and I look at the groups and couples around me and just take a moment to daydream and reminisce.

  3. That is such a great write. My wife and I used to wander the quiet Florida streets at night, alone and out in the middle of the swamp. It was a winding road on a three mile long Island and as we walked under the big black sky we would look into the warmly lighted houses and imagine the lives within. You have perfectly embodied the feeling of looking into someone else’s life and being moved by it. Thanks!

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