To Speak Up for Me

To Speak Up for Me

(“Therefore he is also able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, seeing that he lives forever to make intercession for them.” Hebrews 7:25)

I stood in the doorway watching everyone leave,
I stood in the doorway and lonely was not yet a word.

I enjoy classic diners with jukeboxes that play
45s cut before I was born. Strawberry shakes,
chrome counters and laughing so loud you put
another dollar in the machine to play the song again.

I didn’t mean to retire, it just happened that way.
I stood in the doorway where people gathered to pray
and I knew I could stand no longer, not by myself, not
without help, not without coffee and tears from a friend.

I enjoy being anonymous, I enjoy being known.
I know those aren’t synonymous, I enjoy being alone.
But solitary is sadder without an ear to hear my
Complaints in the dark.
And popular is just another word for how
friendship bracelets made us feel as kids.

I’ve been left standing in the doorway more often than I’d like,
standing abandoned in the doorway, sunspots all around my head.
Although some were invisible visitors and crept in undetected,
(this aching heart reacted to the overall theme, not each detail
of the narrative.)

I like parks where you can roll down the lawn
on green hills as far as you can. I like to watch the
clouds with a friend as they blow in over the skyline.
We never called out shapes; we were modern and cubist
after all. I like parks where frisbees and picnics share
the same air.

Everything perceived is a wave, a particle, a neuron, or
maybe angels. No one realizes it when they abandon you,
they just do not notice you are gone. Colors of morning
and sounds of engines warming fill the space the friend
once inhabited. No one
means to leave you alone.

I would turn away from the doorway, never to return,
but it will not still the yearning, the restless cry for
someone
to speak to me.
To speak up
For me.
To shed tears for me when
mine have run dry. An advocate, a brother,
a sister, a sponsor into the halls where
clouds are made to entertain an avant garde
and silly writer like me.