Winter (a poem)

Art by Jean Karen Schutz Wade (l) and the late Robert William Wade.

He was fragile
But passionate
Kind of like us that day
when we visited his art studio
He was an old man
with the heart of gold
From a distant era
Longing to revise himself
A twinkle in his eye
Moved me
His art proclaimed his inner 
thoughts, surrealistic images, 
random stories and sweet poetry
Self-expression dujour
screaming pain and lonliness
crying for justice
But it was his love 
for her 
that touched me most
his wife, baby's mama, best friend
time had taken her mind and talent
leaving him lonely and sad
He was getting tired...that kind of tired 
from the constant isolation from the 
love of your life that is poison and 
he was dying slowly inside
I could feel it underneath 
the scattered canvasses that filled each room
and the wistful look he gave both of us
sensing that we too had no ordinary love
He knew what a soul connection looked like 
when he saw it
Beyound his generosity 
he shared the magic of unconditional love back to us.

Too bad you didn't notice....

--For Bob W.  (RIP)

From the upcoming chapbook, Moon Rising in Capricorn (2020), copyright SJB Creative Ventures, LLC, all rights reserved.