Two of Spades

Two of Spades

Walking on a Sunday morning
Robert Plant and Alison Krause
Are singing in my ears
It’s hot already
And it’s only eight

Summer’s finally here
Now I remember what it’s like
On this side of the hill
It feels better than I remember
Maybe absence made the heart grow fonder

I’ve been thinking about somebody else’s mortality
Wondering about his legacy
Wondering if he wonders about his legacy
Poor him
I’m pretty sure he does
For hours at a time

Walking and singing
Looking around
Reality show wannabe
Smoking a cigarette
In last night’s dress
Talking to a boy with a beard

The Japanese man is sweeping
The red steps
He smiles when I say good morning
He’s wearing Crocs
They are a little too big for his feet
But he doesn’t seem to mind

Hundreds of yellow petals
Looking like little bells
Are scattered on the ground
I try not to step on any of them
And almost run into

Two women in black
Look out of context
On this hottest of days
Because of the black
And the faces
Out of place
In the hills
They would be more comfortable
On the West Side
With the other faces
That have no lines
No expressions
Matching noses and lips

Do they live here?
Are they visiting?
I’m sorry for their perfect faces
Out of context

Not too many dogs today
Or walkers
Or cars
But it’s Sunday
It’s early
And it’s hot

I’m left with my thoughts
Exactly where I want to be
Looking at the ground
I see
A two of spades
Lying in the dirt

Alone
At the side of the road
Face up
And I wonder

How did it get here?
Is it a message?
Where are the other cards?
Why the two of spades?