Do you remember those long
walks we use to take along
the river? Like that one where you
stopped as the sun slowly
set and the sky burst
with a flame of color
and the river rippled
reflections through the
river lilies as the lamps
along the path slowly awoke with a
brilliant glow. You
said “Wow,” pointing to the
river “this looks like
a painting by Monet” and I
said “Nah, looks like a Van Gogh
to me.”
And then you made fun of me
claiming Van Gogh was
the only artist I knew
and I said,”Maybe you’re right, but
either way it left an impression
on me.”
“Did you just make a lame art joke?”
you prodded
I just said,
“what?”
and we laughed,
held hands, and kept
walking until
the dark skies
became a starry night.
