blue

Walking around on a warm spring day, back and forth and too and fro, an aimless wander with no direction, surrounded by people on all sides yet so alone, but its a sentiment shared by all, a woman looks at me and laughs, she lost a love so long ago the headstone has faded, in stark contrast was her memory of him, as fresh as the flowers she left that morning, rising up carried by a staircase, the top holds nothing new, just a mirror of the bottom, but so much closer to the light, sitting down at a table meant for more, the empty chairs say more than the one in use, across the way three friends enjoying each others company, they talk about the future, something they all have so much of, at the same time the end of an era, in a year they might not remember the things they said today, in the last leg of pointless journey, the beginning's the end and the middle is behind me, before i leave a girl confronts me, "do you like the color blue", she asked so intensely, "is that the color of your eyes", "no" i think "its just the hue of my mood".

Not really sure if that was a poem or short story.