Walking slow, a barren street ahead

around the quiet of still voices

tucked away with a sort of purpose,

he just strolls invisible

to the world around him,

using the stars to guide him

somewhere he just doesn’t know.

listen to the night sky,

the sweep in the evening breeze,

always when he reaches the pavement,

glances across the way,

sort of peering over the runway,

can imagine that she might be

walking on a similar avenue

with the same notions,

questions, thoughts, in idle pose,

perhaps there in the lights of the

crossing twilight,

they might meet somewhere in the middle,

always falling into just adequate.

He turns his head a way,

a smile in the ashen light of night,

the corner helps him disappear.

Minutes go by, and she walks

across the edge of the bridge,

glancing about, feeling

like there might have been a hymn

where they both recognize

how twilight might guide

their worlds to find one another

again.