A big old cornfield
a house stands isolated
I walk closer
I start walking slower
as I approach, I get anxious
a mind tripping, my whole being shocked beyond belief
my life flashed, my brain - confused
I’m scared as I come closer
the house empty
money scattered over wooden floors
I don’t understand
looking through a window
there a hat stand
a coat hanging from it
there must be someone here
walking to the front door
to my surprise a flower bed
cared for
with only one red rose
on the porch a rocking chair
a photograph of a strawberry field lying on the dirty floor
I’m tense and nervous
the front door locked
I need to get in
need to see the secrets hiding behind these walls
at a broken window
I manage to get in
I take my coat from under my arm
putting in on as all of a sudden, I’m cold
I turn to see a pair of shoes
they look familiar
the soles walked through
I put them down
my heart racing
in a different room
I see a man approaching
get out of this place
I’m trapped
I freeze as he enters
walking past me as I weren’t there
terrified of what I saw
I know this man
I know his face
as he sits down, he takes something from his pocket
I need to see what it is
a photograph
I freeze as I see its image
I sit down beside him
scared beyond belief
it’s as if I’m not there
I look at the photo
can’t stop looking at his hands
his face old and confident
I see tears in his eyes
a smile appears
I feel the warmth of his passion
flowing over to me
he gets up walking out the room
I follow him, as if he is pulling me with him down the passage
another world, this room like a hot house
here he cares for small strawberry plants
like a father with his children
his caring hands checking all of them
he takes the photograph
holding it close to his heart
starting to cry
his pain overwhelming me, wanting to tell him it’s ok
but I can’t
looking at myself, my hands on my heart
with a photo and I start to cry
I cannot understand why
looking at the image
seeing your face
the face on his photo
the same as mine just older
I see his face in a mirror on the wall
this man, it’s me
I need to speak with him
I cannot for he can’t see me
doesn’t he know I’m there
he stops to cry
softly I hear his mumbling
in all the days
all the long lonely nights
I have not stopped loving you
in all the years
not once have I stopped thinking of you
by the grace of God may i never stop?
I will persevere
maybe one day
you’ll understand this love
I see a smile appearing on his face
he seems so sure
not doubting in his dream
I turn to leave
once again hearing his soft mumbling voice
never give up on your dream
turning back he’s not there
I blink my eyes
a man with an estate agents badge
negotiating the price for the land and the house
I’m not interested to buy
BennyB
©01/04/1990 Barend Booysen
