Nancy’s Footsteps

First impulse. He wanted to run
Race out the door. Saw her wheelchair

Then her signature lime green
Nancy. He wanted to leave

Caught a light in her eyes
That reeled him in. Squirming
A fish caught in a net

Her laugh floated. Put him at ease
Wanted to hear his story
And then he asked about hers
Late dinner. Way past eight
Too late. For theatre tickets

But he wanted to know. Hear
How she’d grown up on the east side
As a teen. Out on the streets
One day darkness took her. Down
And later, light. Woke her up
In a hospital. Unable to walk

Simple story. Nothing religious.
Darkness. Tears. Light. Joy.

Told him the Lord was the first One
To truly love her. Just as she was

And she lit up then. Like Times Square.
Hugo had nothing to say. Shifted. Stood

A little too much food for thought
He was comfy with ‘as is’
Preconceived whatchamacallit
Ideas, ideals, notions, ‘same-old’
Nice person. She’d got him thinking
About stuff. Losing baggage.
Throwing it out the window

A lady good at losing luggage
She ought to know what he felt
He left her there. Felt her smile

Blazing behind him like footsteps
As if she’d walked this way before

© 2013 S. Michaels
Blank Canvas
Seven Love Stories – Hugo & Nancy

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