Fleet of Souls

“Feels like

I know you.
That we’ve

Spoken many times.

Feels like

I’ve been here.
That what is

About to unfold

I’ve seen.”

Can’t tell

If it’s my mind

Recalling a movie,

Or my memory

Of what I'd done

Or wanted to do.

What was real?

I don’t know

All the answers.

Just a few.

There’s a hint of fresh basil

Lingering in the hall,
Mingling with garlic. 

Dinner?

I wondered.

Hoped is more like it.

Feels so

Comfortable,

Almost rehearsed.

I felt so at ease

In her presence.

Raven black hair that

Gently touched

Her shoulders.

Hazel eyes that

Witnessed everything.
I wanted to hold her

Until we slept.

Have we met?”

When her eyes

Synced with mine,

I could feel the heat.

“Yes, of course.

Which century did you

have in mind?”

“You pick,” I said.

She turned away

Just for a second.

“I have my favorites.

But we outdid ourselves

In 1869.”

“Really.”

“Don’t you believe me?”

“I want to.”

She took my hand.

“Look at this tiny scar

On your palm.”

I opened my clenched fist

And found a strange mark.

I couldn’t recall

When that had happened.

“I put it there with a quill,”

She said. “I’ve been sorry

About it for a long time.
We had an argument about

One of the men who came

To my restaurant.”

“Where?”

“Bar Harbor.”

“I’ve never been

To Bar Harbor.”

She sighed.
“No, not this trip.
But I remember when

You got off the boat.

Couldn’t avert my eyes.
You were something.”

The sun found

My neck and face,

A different warmth.

Or maybe it was just me

Wanting to be

Alone with her.

Again,

I couldn’t tell

If it was my film

Or someone else’s.

She unlocked a trunk

And took out a thick

Dusty tome

With parchment pages.

“The answers are in here.

But this is the gist.

We are born. Sometimes

Everything works out.
We live that once.

Most of us have to keep at it.
We struggle, and if we don’t

Make it, we return to the fleet of souls,

Where we sail on the sea

Until we’re ready to try again.

That’s where we met the first time.
On deck at sunset.”

“When was that?”

“We were Vikings.”

“Awesome.”

She grinned.

“You want more pot?”