the proposal

the hare krishna tree
in the foreground,
nine years later.

the tree to the left,
mounded dirt,
remnants of mulch.

it’s the height of summer.
same day.
same place.
dusk.

there is a woman,
unlike the girl nine years before,
a man, unlike that boy,
and no music but the constant drone
of cicadas in somewhere trees.

the grass holds so many--
they find little pockets,
away from one another.
and outside, on benches,
men with tatoos on the edges of their eyes,
swirling down necks and chins,
down arms to wrists and fingers.

we went to that dark place,
expecting joy and finding truth.
we went there,
but for the grace of--
we went, not a part of,
a place that time had taken from us,
a place where dusk had fallen,
would fall forever,
but not here--
and found ourselves outside,
one knee and shining fingers
entwined beneath some other tree,
our nine year kiss complete.

Charles Imbelli 2010