People Like Us

And desire gone cold like the thin skin
on weak warm gravy that has sat out
too long, and the meat not eaten, and the wind
now making a dance of the bedroom curtains.

And now the weather holding its breath;
our skins prickling with late afternoon heat.

All this, so late in the day, is no surprise.
Perfection is out of the question for people like us.

What's left is the strong will to rouse ourselves,
take one of those long walks of which
we have always been fond. Look.

Outside the window, the reassurance of
the seemingly endless orange grove.

Let's walk down its long avenue,
moving ourselves from moment to moment,
allowing each step to warm us into a deep
nostalgia for the future which has already
been mapped out for people like us.

Mark Jason Weston

Originally published in The Baltimore Review Winter/Spring 2004