3 train, Clark Street Station to 96th Street, January 25, 2015
Strange how you can get the poet vibe without even looking at the person. That happened with Jessenia. It was a crowded train and I had to sit on the edge of the seat. I knew it was a woman, I knew she was wearing headphones, I knew she was a poet. I couldn’t turn around to look at her for any verification. So I bumped up my bravery and asked when we got to Chambers Street. “Sure.” She had written a poem that morning (of course! I felt it), and shared with me a new one on that same theme. She writes regularly in a notebook the same size as the one I use, and designs jewelry and handbags. Funny how we let down our guard and share a little romance. When I got up to my class, I recited her poem.
how fast the season changed
I can still feel the warmth from on top
of the fire escape
Do you remember?
It was the day you told me this is
where you wanted to be.
There on top, just you and me.
It was the day we shared our first
The moment that felt so right
it was a hot summer day but it felt as
blissful as night.
wish I could relive that summer for the
rest of my life.
What great times we had.
Days where we would talk and walk for
A little world just for us.
As the seasons changed we’ve changed
But I’m always remembering summer.