Theresa Williams

excerpt from: The Secret of Hurricanes

..I sat on a bench
and watched people skate.

It was the first time
I'd ever thought about what aloneness
really means.

At midnight,
as the lights went down for the last time,
couples orbited the floor
and kissed in the shadows.

But I wasn't watching lovers.

I watched one lone boy.

He formed a circle with his arms,
a circle like the world,
the long, bony fingers of each hand just touching,
and wove in and out of couples on his black skates.
I watched until he was the only one I saw.
Nobody else.
Just the boy.
Then I quickly shut my eyes.

And the image of him stayed.
This boy.
He made loneliness
into something a person could want.

Into a kind of wisdom the world needs.

© 2003 Theresa Williams

Theresa Williams is a professor of English at Bowling Green State University, who recently finished her first novel The Secret of Hurricanes, which was a finalist for the Patterson Fiction Prize

Back to POEMS; BY GUESTS AND FRIENDS