A month of keys and painted walls
My coat behind the door
Still checking every corner twice
A map from work to home
I found your window in the rain
Warm light across the street
Then every morning, stopped again
For something warm to eat
On Friday, there were only crumbs
Where my usual would be
You said, “Tomorrow, shall I save you one?”
And passed a pen to me
I wrote my name beneath the date
You tucked the note away
One little reason to get up
On my first unhurried day
You saved a little something for me
Before the sky was fully light
My name upon a folded note
A warm bag held between us tight
Just a little something for me
Nothing more than bread to bring
But I walked out a little less
Like a stranger passing through everything
You said my name, I raised my eyes
Then smiled a moment late
The same one that I hear at work
Felt different in this place
You told me, “Take the uphill road
There’s sunlight on the square”
I turned away from where the trains go
With time enough to spare
You saved a little something for me
Before the sky was fully light
My name upon a folded note
The warmth still reaching through each side
Just a little something for me
And a road I hadn’t tried
I took my breakfast up the hill
And let the morning open wide
Between the branches, there’s my floor
The window I left closed
I know the way back to your door
Without looking at my phone
I brush the crumbs into the bag
And fold the paper carefully
It only has my name on it
Still, I take it home with me
You saved a little something for me
I found a sunny place to sit
A paper bag upon my knees
And nowhere else I had to be
Just a little something for me
Now there’s something I can say
When I stop for bread on Monday
“I found the park. I think I’ll go again.”
Through the glass, I lift my hand
You lift yours, a tray held low
Then at the corner, I turn for home
Without a map to show me where to go
