​POETRY   
          

"The man carefully came down the bus steps as I waited to embark."
                                     Photo by Mike Lambert                               

Never to Be
by Vivian Imperiale

​There are things in life that remind us of the past
but, rarely, are there things that remind us of the
future, a future that will not come to be. But it
happened twice—so far.
 
The man carefully came down the bus steps as I waited to embark.
He was the never-to-happen You,
the You who didn’t live to have silver hair;
the You who never saw my brown hair turn gray. He
as the should-have-been You
with thick silver hair, light blue eyes, and the striking bone
structure of your face.
 
It took my breath away to see what would
have been, had you survived past 38.
 
And then, months later, I saw him again. The shock the same,
the memories of the missed future vivid.
You, but not.

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​​Vivian Imperiale has been viewing the world through a poet’s eye since she was six. She now writes to process her emotions around homelessness, mental health, connections with the spirit world, and the loss of the Light of her Life to AIDS long ago. Her poems and prose have been published online, in magazines, journals, newspapers and in books. 

Other works in this issue:
Poetry:
​The Day I Understood Why I Am Me

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