Secret Sharer

       Bobby’s feet thudded over the cold floors as he dashed to a hot shower.

       Spring dawned cold and wet and he had walked

       Blocks and blocks on New York streets.

       Snow stubbornly clung to stair railings, corners of sidewalks.

       In the cascade of hot water he pocketed his disappointment.

       Nearly late for his dinner he let it all reel out in his head.

       Tucking into meatloaf he was quiet.

                   He was the band’s drummer

                    Too shy to test his voice.

                     He wanted to sing but instead kept a steady rhythm.

       Now the stage provided  home for him.

       The song lived in his confidence.

       It strutted out from the shine of his eyes

       Put arms around the audience.

       This is for you, it said.

       His baritone, his modulations,

       The zing of notes and beats reinvented by him

       Became him, became life, became a new song

       Became all reaching out.

                         Who knew him?

                         Everyone there did in that moment.

                         That smile, his dancing in the spot of light.

                       He’s theirs.

                       A kid has a new bike,

                       A renewed sense of fun from an unknown donor.

                       He had been a kid too with an undisclosed ache of his own.

                        Not getting to run, on the outside looking in.

                                       Days march by sometimes unknown,

                                       Unclarified in the cold sticking to early spring

                                        Waiting for the sun.

                         Kids one day have a new song.

                         Bobby’s lyrics find them

                         Like a piece of the sun, sweet

                         Wrapped up for them.

                         Sailing out of the clear blue

                         There’s reinventing, a voice of excitement

                         Reaching in deep and new.

                          He’s theirs.

                                                   Connie Sanford Jeffrey