you just stood there, arms akimbo,
while the flicker of the movie
washed upon us like a sudden
sleet over an unsuspecting forest
I remember your goaded silence.
robin williams-a startling altruist-
was ready to drown everything
I dreaded you were about to flood me.
then you offered me your bare arms.
(in what? in apologies? in sympathy?)
and off you poofed, a spooked specter,
leaving me ashen like a silent film star.
today, as a coy winter storm
gathers steam in hushes of mute flakes,
my bus-an iron sadist-
roistered by that dumb park.
the screen poles stand there still.
two ghosts ignoring each other's snow shadows.
the bare arms of the trees grazing them
whisper of a washed out movie ending.