Glad to Listen

Thinking I would find him there,
Stargazing, waiting awaiting something
Away,
I wanted to greet him with a touch.

Looking on the balcony,
Confused and worried
What had happened...
His calm voice called from a ledge "I'm here."

On the table first I saw
His keys;
Empty glasses waiting to be filled
With uncorked wine.

Following the glare of light
Moon its source
Reflected on the glass into his eyes

He sits on an outcropping brick ledge,
Outstretched legs he watches over the city;
A protector.

Outstretched hand I touch the tips of walking over In the moonscape
To the streets below I show my fear at which he smiles
And nods to urge me over

Taking hold of my hands then my hips he leads me on
The balance beam of brick
And trust.
At last I rest upon the narrow ledge,
I am safe with him now
And I ask the man of building
Why this ledge was built here.

He says it is because
He would someday sit here with me
But I asked for a more logical explanation
For I answer with poems
And he with musical equations.

"There is a fault line
Seven blocks west.
This house and you,
My treasure,
Shall not buckle within
Upon its hunger."

And for safekeeping,
I am wrapped in his arms
As he overlooks the city.