Elegy for That Day in July

photo by Sergey Novikov

when I sat under the umbrella and you
were half in the pool, a margarita in hand,
tongue-skimming your drink. I would say
something and your feet would splash
the water surface as you tipped your head
up laughing. Think back to the times we would stay
up til three watching television,
or the time you filled my wine glass to the brim
on New Year’s Eve as we all waited for midnight.
Think back to the times between the times,
when everything was flat and peaceful
like a pool with nobody in it. I’m doing it, see?
I’m closing my eyes to the night, holding on to the bridge,
ignoring the last notes of the song. I’m listening
to you tell me that
nothing has to change.
Despite this, there is a storm
bubbling around me and it’s crashing
to a crescendo, rising up,
as I pour hot tea into your cup.