On My Own Time

Walking the girls downtown, I give off an air of independence and confidence, cocooned in our rhythmic jaunting and the patterns of their movements.

I try to feel the openness of each moment as I catch brief glimpses of others passing by while they socialize meeting friends and dates or partners.

Looking up at the sky in wonder, I take in the blue-gray panoramas, pausing the hounds to coordinate some pictures.

I try to push aside the deep, abiding ache of ever present loneliness that tries to swallow me and tell me it has always been – and will always be this way.

Is it strange that my imagination plays vibrant scenerios which have little relativity to what I am doing right now?

It’s like having a case of the “Walter Mitty’s” – only, somehow I believe it is possible that these dreams can become realities.