You won’t have to look hard
to find me.
I’ll be crossing the street at the same place every day,
where the park meets the boulevard,
past the dark branches of the crabapple trees.
You will surely see me.
Or waiting in line
under the green awning at the bakery
getting my morning coffee,
waiting for you, too.
“Go, go. I would not wish you back again.”
– Elizabeth Bennet, about her former suitor Mr. Wickham, in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice
If you wait for me
at the library next Saturday
I’ll be there as soon as it opens and spend all day
at the same quiet table by the back windows.
You won’t have to wait at all.
Or I will be at home
sitting on the front steps
waiting for you to round the corner.
“Like the dew on the mountain,
Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,
Thou art gone, and for ever!”
– Walter Scott, Coronach
If you walk any evening at dusk
around the lake path
You won’t have to round even one bend
to catch up to me
There I will be: dawdling and expectant.
Or I’ll be sitting at my favorite fountain
with the waterfalls,
dangling my fingers in the water.
“My friend, I am tricked, betrayed, lost, I am in despair; Madame de Tourvel has gone, and I did not know it! And I was not there to reproach her with her unworthy treachery!”
– The Vicomte de Valmont’s letter to Marquise de Merteuil, in Les Liaisons Dangereuses, by Choderlos de Laclos
Yes, you will find me
where I am, and will be.
You will have no searching.
Look for my shape in the same red jacket
moving through the low spring grasses.
The field is wide and open.
Trust your sense,
that whichever path you walk,
I am at your side.
Open your eyes to the morning light.
The shadow nearby is mine.