Paul fell into a dark place.
He immediately stopped digging
even though he walked city streets.
He guessed he fell into a manhole.
He worried it was a black hole.
Paul chose to stand silent.
Not a peep came out of him.
After an undefined measure of time
he looked up to determine
if a cap of sky was above him.
There was light above him.
Way far above him.
He could not tell if the light
was sky blue, cloud white
or an inspiring memory.
Paul thought about his falling.
It was not a tail spin.
There was no plunging downward.
There was the abrupt sadness
like a dove hitting a window.
He pulled out his smart phone
and opened his calendar.
A black dot marked this day.
No information followed the dot.
No time frame. It repeated yearly.
Paul recognized this darkness
as the black of a black & white memory.
He tipped his cap to the sadness.
The hurt that formed the sadness receded.
The cap of sky broadened, came closer.
The darkness fell away from Paul.
Turn about was fair play.
Paul acknowledged life does not play fair.
Spotting a nearby bench, he sat.
The bus stop bench accepted his weight.
He examined his daughter’s bright life.
He looked at a black and white memory photo album.
He touched the horror of the day she died.
A bus pulled up to the stop.
Paul continued his walk in the city.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney