On the Balcony

by W. F. Manchester


Our souls commingled in our minds,

I remember the moment so well,
Your life,
Became my life,
Your breath,
A reason for going on another day…


Your breath whispers
Through the leaves of the trees,
Bare and desolate,
In the cold morning of a confused spring.

Your face evanesces in the windowpanes of my little

As I squint out into the darkness
Looking for you to return,
But you never do;
You voice calls to me from the other end of the earth,
I strain to discern the words,
But cannot comprehend what I am hearing;
Emptiness fills my being;
Life is repugnant.

It’s been 30 years now since you left me standing on our balcony,

Left me,
For the cold, unforgiving steel of that Rambler’s bumper,
That frigid, moonlit night in January,
And I am still standing there, waiting,
Though time and space,
Have long since transcended that moment.
[published in “Palingenesis,” a First State Writers Anthology 2002]