nothing serious

it’s gotten so I like being alone
I can sit with a book
in a crowded square and
become its fictional character
disappear into its story
looking up a long while later
only to discover it is the crowd
that has disappeared

what begins as imposition of
a will greater than yours
mine
becomes yours
mine
and you come to like it
not loneliness
but only-ness
living the private life
I realize now I’ve always had
trouble separating me from you

but there are times when
it all creeps into need
a subtle desire for someone
to share one or two of
my moments
nothing serious
just someone to
talk to

someone
whose hair
dances amber with her every step
someone
to hold my hand
and my eyes
to enjoy an alfresco moment
at some sidewalk café
nothing serious
just someone
to pass the time with

I’d cook her dinner
one of these summer nights
later we could sit out back
listen to the creek play with
the frogs and the crickets
and on that hot summer night
she could lie with me under a thin sheet
nothing serious
just someone to share my
troubled sleep

Nothing permanent
though I wouldn’t mind
having someone around
some of the time
most of the time
someone who will be true
wants to be loved
adored even
and someone who will be
there when I close my eyes
one last time

nothing serious