May walk

walking down quiet suburban streets
arm in arm
past neat gardens
and tidy lawns
here a woman pulls up weeds
there a man varnishes a fence
spring colours are muted
spring scents are dulled
the breeze is not bracing
but numbing
the sun is fickle
now warm and caressing
now distant and cool
our silence is not uncomfortable
nor is it companiable
it lies between us like an ocean
the ocean of my incapacity
the ocean of my authenticity