love

riding the new york
city subway one night
a few years ago,
across from me sat
a man in a long
black coat with a white
silk scarf around him,
he was heading into town
for a show perhaps, or
a gallery opening, he
appeared to be in his
seventies. there was
a pleasant smile on
his lined face and
you could feel a serene
sense of dignity
about him, a poetic soul
who was patient with
the crowd, the train,
the time, and he stared
at the woman who sat next
to me, of his age, whom
he boarded the train
with, but because of
the crowd they sat across
from one another in the only
open seats. he smiled
at her, and nodded as
the train moved through
the tunnels beneath the
city, the lights flickering
and the wheels clanking
along, and you couldn't
help but wonder how many
times they had done this.
and i could see their
matching rings, and
their silent conversation
broke my heart with joy.
and when the train came
to their stop, without
a word, they both stood
up, held hands and
went off into the night.
i want that.