10-Line Tuesday

March 20, 2012

on the eve of Spring
I saw them, kissing on a sidewalk bench. I’d left the movie
with my heart in my throat, a story about beating the odds,
an impossible alliance forged from accident and luck. The way
they leaned into it, I would have said it was new, their bodies
making fervent contact, his arm clutching her shoulder blade,
her drawn knees tipped, as if drunk, into his torso. Sometimes, a moment
holds our contradictions perfectly, the tentative and unafraid,
history and hope threading in one touch. I drove on, thinking what it meant
to lean into the risk, how loving always drives the wager.
The moon was nowhere to be seen, but the stars were everywhere.