The Parking Garage

Photo by Javier Molina on Unsplash

So grateful...
For smooth cement walls 
Rising layer upon layer,
To an open, cold and blue sky.
She holds me up
While I lean against her 
Waiting for the elevator
That will take me 
To the bank floor.
There, tellers will smile at me
And twenty somethings 
In sweater vests
Will push papers 
And pretend
That they can offer some security
To the anxious patrons
Who so confidently
Pass them
Thier tens and twenties 
And hundreds and thousands.
"Rest assured" they say
"You're in safe hands with us!
Yes - Never you worry!
Go to your lives 
And rest assured
We'll never let you down!"
But I feel more safe here
Sandwiched between 
Layers of sand and lime and rock.
I lean against her smooth face
And feel the cool breeze 
Blow through her open sides.
"I make you no promises" she says
And I know
That when "the end" comes
This is the last place I should be. 
But I cherish her anyway
For the icy truth 
She tells.
"Ding!"
And there is my elevator.
I pull myself away
From the cool cement wall
And step into the shiny 
Red carpeted room
That will lead me 
To the fiction
I have chosen.
Goodbye old friend.
Until next Thursday
When we'll meet again
In that space that lies just before
All that we've imagined.
Meet me there again
And remind me
Until then
That nothing is for certain.
Cool me with the memory
Of your silence.
You are true old friend
And I am grateful,
Grateful to find you here, 
Grateful that you never leave
Goodbye...until next time.