The Seasons of 2nd Avenue & 10th Street

By Rebecca Panos

Something old, with something new

Sat on the bench

On the corner of 2nd and 10th

The warmth of the metal and wooden bench took me by surprise

No trace of the February frost it was once laced in

Though the cold still permeates my bones

Even under sweltering summer skies

You once led me here,

Now someone else takes the spot that was yours

I try to conceal from them 

What was so blatantly obvious to you

A perfectly crafted mask

You always saw right through

At odds with my mind,

I grasp onto the present for dear life,

But something stronger,

pulls me back to the dead of winter

I’m there again, 

Frost biting at my toes

Cowering under the weight of your stare

My eyes water 

In answer to the frigid air

I close my eyes

I open them 

the late summer humidity embraces me

I peer over your shoulder 

Gasoline wafts toward us as a bus drives away

The only sense I give thought to

My eyes shift to the trees,

Blowing in the wind

A gentle dance

I think I will wait here,

Until I’m ready to leave.