PAD #6: Michael

Michael

Your poem came today, Michael, on a brisk walk
with Maximus, the spring day wearing a bright
blue dress, stinging my face with her whip of wind.
I saw Styrofoam Dunkin' Donuts cups,  Snickers
wrappers, a child's camp t-shirt, and a McDonald's
cup strewn across the lawn of a synagogue.
Just as I shook my head in shame Earth Song
queued on my iPod, and I could see you. See you
as I saw you at Disney World the summer I graduated
high school, red shirt, black pants, black hat,
black shoes, pale skin, Macaulay Culkin by
your side. I left Mickey for you, to yell your name,
to nearly cry at the sight of you blowing kisses to
the crowd.You make me move, Michael, no matter
where I am. In the grocery store. In the car.
You will stay there, there in the Polaroid
pictures I have tucked away in a shoebox.
Three snapshots of you waving a
hello and goodbye to me.