Like a Loose Garment
She just drove by,
her dog next to her,
her window open.
She blew me a kiss,
as she drove by,
she blew me a kiss.
The lover who changed her mind,
the love I still love.
Francis of Assisi said to wear
the world like a loose garment.
She blew me a kiss,
I caught it with my heart,
and I let it evanesce.
My heart is a garment where everything
has room to arise
and fall away.
She blew me a kiss.
I felt it whoosh through the air.
I’m far enough along
in growing back my open soul
that it doesn’t so much matter
what it means. I feel
no need to explicate or deconstruct
that kiss, only in this moment
the pleasure of receiving,
innocent of expectations.
If she could, we’d be together.
Since she can’t,
I love the gift of today,
the surprise of a kiss in the morning air
in the world I wear
like the roomiest of garments.
