God Damn Ukulele Man

Sitting on a bench in the sunshine. I’ve noticed you before, just a hello and nothing more.

The smile as I pass by, a face that’s a routine. 

Play your music for me as I slide by in the cool, dim, morning air. Leaves fall around me and linger in my hair.

Strangers smiling as I walk by, a thousand smiles a day. Silence and energy. A hundred connections never made. Words unexchanged by endless faces. What if we spoke? Every face I see means something to me and eventually fades.

Do we choose the ones that mean the most? Or do they choose us? A delicate dance of pursuit and attraction. Energy ebbs and flows. Rustles the bright fall leaves as they slowly crinkle and float to the ground.

But you ask me, 

Do you believe in God? And I say no, do you? 

And you say no. 

I smile warmly, the lines around my eyes crinkle with kindness and experience. Knowing.

And you ask me, 

Will you be my girlfriend? 

But I barely know you. I don’t even know your name. A fleeting moment passes.

God damn, ukulele man,

Don’t we need more than that? More than names and ages and jobs shared interests, a few minutes? More than a moment of connection? Where are you from? A smile? Or is that enough to know.

Tell me, ukulele man,

Where does this go? 

You already know.

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