Hush

At least it was quiet

that night, my parents’

perpetual fighting

on hold until morning,

the fan in my bedroom

barely stirring the heavy

air. Sweat pooled

on my upper lip, trickled

down my back. You came

to my window

quietly calling out

to me, hoping I would sneak

outside with you, like we had planned,

but I was afraid. I remember the long

walks we took almost every

day that summer,

past the row houses,

up and down the steep hills,

and through the housing project.

We meshed because I was a quiet

weakling and you were a loudmouthed

fighter. Your mother always sat

at the kitchen window with a coffee cup

full of beer. She fooled most people,

but you to me

the truth. Walking was

our purification. Our way

to numb ourselves,

our second chance.

#poem #poetry #secondchance