Farewell 2012. May 2013 outshine all your dark moments and bring it’s own good madness.
Especially, These Little Parts
Jay, last night, carrying the bags up the subway steps,
we were tired, from another day of shopping in the city,
and traveling home for so long on those underground trains.
We had everything we needed for the holidays and the end of another year.
And this night, after the presents
were bought and wrapped and shipped
and dinner was decided,
we climbed those subway steps, our arms carrying
the holiday wine and we turned down 75th street
towards home, the wind coming up from the estuary
bitter through our snow caps.
You were saying something,
and I’m sorry love, but I wasn’t listening well and can’t remember now
because the sky was such a headstrong blue, almost imaginary
and the stars were already starting to cut their way
through like shards of glass tearing that painted canvass.
I’ve never seen it look so clear.
The way I hope it’ll look at the very end.
And I just wanted you to know that even though
I didn’t say anything that night,
in all that blue, and starlight
through all that wind and cold
when you took my hand in yours
and tucked it into your warm pocket,
I realized that this life is more than enough
and when it’s gone,
I’ll want to do it all over again,
even these little parts
where nothing important is said,
just you and I and the way we must look from space
walking like tiny gods among that blanket of glassy stars.
Yes, even these little nothing walking home parts,
I’ll want them again when they’re gone.
I will press the heel of my hands to my eyes
to recreate the stars, to remember these little nothing parts.
Especially, these parts.