Audrey Bautz


Short Story: Part 1 - Poem by Audrey Bautz

I sit at my window, watching as the shadows on the streets grow longer. The sun reflects it's beauty upon the clouds.
Shops close down, the city lays quiet now. A calm wind sets the aperture of the city evening. Glasses clinging from that of the night life. A quick cup of coffee on your way, a glass of wine to a fond farewell. I press my hands upon the cool glass and trace the shapes that cascade down from the night. And count the stars. I try to picture how an evening spent out would be, how the night air would feel, the food would taste, the sweet taste of the Sherry Wine. Laughter would fill my lungs, voices would overlap. And all night long we would dance.
The moon is rising now, I can feel the light upon me. Maybe, I'll invite the moon to dance with me. I lay my head against the window, and listen to the soft breeze. It whistles a happy tune to me. It is a great story teller. I look out into the darkness, the street lights mark the only visible things. I then see a young girl, running around the posts, laughing so hard. She is out of breath, but won't dare stop. She is unstoppable, untouchable, free. I watch her until she disappears into the night, her voice echos in the distance. A story then takes place before my eyes, I see the young girl now a teen, walking with a group of friends. She is the one making them all laugh. She takes hold of the boy's hand beside her, they stop and sit down on a nearby bench. He softly kisses her cheek, and then holds her. What's left of me begins to burst, overflow with emotions. I watch them as they get up and make there way into the darkness. But in the corner of my eye a movement grows into the shape of a young woman. It is the same little girl, the same teen, now a grown woman! ? ! She is walking hand in hand with a visible ring on her left hand. The young man smiles at her. But there is something wrong, she is worn in the face, pale, fragile. I watch her walk along the street, she has a powerful expression a determination. She slips from his grasp and from sight. This time I do not see her again, but rather an old man limping in the streets, with a frozen expression of sadness. The sky above marks a new day too begin as the city starts to rise. Another day trapped within, another to give birth right before me. I have to wonder if there's a stillness in a moment where the scene freezes if somehow I could fit in there...


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 6, 2008



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