Happy Fall

A broken home,
And a bruised soul
Sent him running to the small town
Away from it all.

Sweat in his brow, every day-
Odd jobs.
Going somewhere:
Not sure where that is.

His red earphones
That he fixed with his own hands
Plugged into his ears

He'd listen to the music on his refurbished CD player-
Fastened to the fire of the beat:
Then work his heart out.

Enamored by the music.
Enamored by the eyes.

Whispers can't be heard
Through blasting rock music.

But they talked,
They always talked.

But to this boy-
Becoming a man
Was his own path
In this small town.

She was the path-walker
That had dreams to big for
Her frail body.

She wheeled around her wheelchair
Looking for love.

She peered into his eyes through the glass he was washing
And she knew something.

A few months.
A few broken CD's
A few broken dreams
A job interview.

He left, and she stood at his door.
He didn't realize.
He didn't see how much help
Help he could have given.
Help he could have gotten.

Two months, a building in ashes:
Penniless he sat on the sidewalk
Attempting to hitchhike to his town.

His ears bleeding because
His volume is turned up all the way
Drowning out his sobs.

"Dreams aren't anything, are they."
He muttered from his soundless mouth.

A car pulled up.
Faded puddle lights
In the small town
Again.

The whispers.

But when he woke in the morning,
A stubborn heart was there waiting.

She told him to pick his head up
From the depths of her own wheelchair-
And he listened.
Finding what he had always been missing.

She told him defiantly
In breaking tone
"I'm going to walk for you"

And it hit him
That hers were the eyes
That peered across alleyways
And through windows.
They were the ones that believed.

A faltering step.
Fall.

"Again." the boy said.
Fall.

"One more time" said he.
Fall.

A tear streaked face,
And another one sobbing.
"Dreams do fail" she tried to say
And then
He picked her up
And took her steps

"Dreams." He said,  "never fail".