I try to picture you

Waking up, eyes caressing the coppery landscape

Arms stretching overhead, mouth forming a yawn as you look over at me and smile

A smile of contentment, to which you shake your head in disbelief

Twenty one years, Bird. What do you think of that?

Maybe you would get up and put on a suit, carrying your chestnut Brogues downstairs in your hooked fingers so that you won't wake me with your pony steps

I will hear your silence and smile, as I do now, thinking of that horsehide-shoe trot you used to dance, making me laugh, your greatest pleasure

And mine.

Tonight you might have arrived bearing your one rose, your trademark

Presenting it to me proudly, shocking me with your memory of this anniversary

This twenty one years.

One more year will mark the day that our phantom marriage will have lasted as long as our alive one

And I will wonder which one was more real

When I wake up and look at that coppery horizon and wonder

If you see it too.