I thought I saw your face once, looking down into the pond.
I thought I saw your nose,
your hair, clipped too short because you hate how it curls,
your glasses,
your eyes, brown with green
but then I heard a croak
and saw ripples circling outward…
My ball came bouncing back toward me,
I didn’t have to promise anything this time,
I didn’t have to let you sit beside me,
eat off my plate,
drink from my wine…
Now, all I can do is keep throwing my ball back
into the pond,
watching the ripples circle,
I’m not sure how to say I’m sorry,
so I’ll keep trying to get you back
the way I first got you.
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