The Affair

Blond, pale white jeans, she waves hello
and glances back at the parking lot
On the next walk around the lake she sits
in her red Toyota with a thin bearded man
A white truck that says “Electronics”
on the door is parked alongside.
I walk past benches, picnic tables,
the stillness of twelve-twenty-two P:M
the orange iguana, the wings-spread anhinga
the homeless man sleeping in the shade
the pedal boats alone on the dock and this time
I walk slowly knowing they are close and sure enough
there by the first table to my right, this cautious shadowed pair
his right eye watching me carefully, she ignoring it all
I slip by the fallout of this quest, this harboring of want
already raising ruckus beyond the birds, the quiet lake
the simple lunch breaks, the space we give ourselves
By the time I make the next round, my iguana who has been sitting
in the same spot is green with a tan head, the homeless man
is asleep, his feet twitching in thick socks and the couple
are walking back to the parking lot holding hands
in that maybe forever dance, we know the end of