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Moral MajorityTo Bill Chene's previous piece

Watch Spring
I was sitting in the park,
Marking time, waiting
For the darkness.
All day long
I've been making up
Silly, pointless rhymes
About knowing you.
 "Young, blonde &
    Twenty three. 
      You have to be."
I can't help it if my
Mind is kind of morbid.
Saw you here last week
But you didn't see me
Watching you,
    Following you
At a distance,
Pretending to be
Someone else, hidden
In the forest shadows,
Walking along the edge
Of the tightly knit grass.
Even though we 
Both shared the same
Experience, walking
Along, alone in this
Lovely urban park.
I hung back a ways,
Bit my lower lip and waited,
Not wanting to spoil it.
We needed to have the
Perfect moment to meet.
You see, I still believe
In love at first sight.

Today you're back,
Sitting on a blanket
At the woods' edge 
Pretending to read a book,
Occasionally watching me
From the corner of your eye.
You think that maybe
I could be the kind of guy
Who'd take the time
Who'd stay long enough
To get to know you,
To love you long and gentle.

In a while, when the time is right
I'm going to approach you and say
Something like,
 "Hi, My name's Johnny Blade.
 Lets climb out of this bed
That we've made called life-
I'm not sure the world cares 
What we do or say tonight,
While hiding behind these tiny lives
We all get to share
                 For only a little while-"
Watching me, the words
Turn over in your mouth
You like my handsome,
Youthful face but you
Don't know whether
To say "Please go away
Or no, stay.....sit down
For a while, find out who
I am, what my name,
My phone number is.@
As we make small talk
I stare at you and think
About how it would be
To lie on that blanket
With you, stroking your
Soft neck like a dove
Knowing all the while that
You're all I deserve,
No more, no less.

Tonight we are the last
To leave the wooded park
And God's the bartender.
He smiles warmly and says:
"It's last call for daylight,
Please, stay for just one more
Slow drink of forgetfulness.
Those last minute insights
Of yours are all too late.
They don't quite fit
Into this perfect moment.
You see, needs have
No concept of time"

We stand up and
Awkwardly circle
The blanket, looking
Tentatively at each other
Hanging around, afraid
To be the first to go, stuck
On that hello - good bye
Thing like two thieves
On crosses, waiting for God
To pour another round
But there can be
No redemption for loners.
There are only the twinkling fireflies
And that dark footpath,
Its shadowy crease,
Like a womb, leading
Deep into the woods,
Alive with the scent
Of rich, dark earth and
Wild honeysuckle.

Tomorrow you will be a headline,
Sleeping in the woods forever,
Hidden deep under the leaves
With your other silent sisters,
All trying to sigh your way
           Back into my heart-

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