Soapbox

Deja Vu

For Amy, and everyone who wishes they could go back and try again.

If I could go back,
If I could have that day again
or even just an hour of it,
I would do it all differently-
by which I mean, I would keep it exactly the same-
but I would see so much more this time.

If I could return to that day
standing on the porch
watching you walk toward me, up the stairs
hands stuffed in your pockets,
tossing back your hair and grinning at my pleasure in seeing you
it would all be different,
because this time I would know that every moment matters.
We would sit and talk, laugh and walk,
I would hold your hand in easy companionship
just as I did the first time,
but among the jokes and chatter
I would try to hear what you weren’t saying-
The loneliness, the confusion,
and let you know that you were safe with me.
I would speak and smile from the heart, brush the hair out of your eyes
(your hair was always in your eyes)
and really listen to you.
I would memorize all of you- the timber of your voice,
the tilt of your head, graceful curl of your fingers in your lap,
even your untied shoelace-
I would lock it all in the amber of memory
to wear around my neck like a golden charm.

And when that day came to an end once again
I would let you go once again,
hold back my tears at the knowledge of what the future holds for us
because I know it can’t change that,
can’t change anything, really,  except the way I feel today.
But first, at the last,
I would look in your eyes and let you know that,
in that moment, someone really saw you
and was unafraid to let you really see them too.
And maybe, hopefully,
that would be enough.