I was looking for her everywhere.
The Rue. . . what was it called?
I can not for the life of me remember
How long has it been?
She has been missed. She is missing.
The flight to Amsterdam was a short flight.
I sat in front of the Van Gogh
hoping and thinking
She surely wouldn't do what I feared, would she?
We were walking from the tower in the city of lights
To walk on the hard marble floors
hours and hours we walked
we saw the Mona Lisa Smile behind the GLASS?
Then it happened.
It fractured.
Her shin.
Hobbled we did to the nearest
apothecary.
No healing came quickly.
There was no elevator in Dutch land
this hotel was five stories high.
The last I saw her
she was in the room with the windows
open wide.
The rooftops were amazing.
I would meet her for coffee.
She had to walk down those stairs.
She had to walk a few blocks.
I should have stayed to help.
I have been looking for her.
Everywhere.
Things are not always black and white.