Artist: Leonid Afremov

Yes, He Knows

she walks through the woods, alone
lets her mind wander ahead, free

the chaos, the noise of the day fades
a calm breeze, thoughts of him return

she feels him, his spirit folds around her
her skin tingles, the sensation electric

‘does he know?”, she wonders aloud
his presence, his touch lingers still

the breeze picks up, engulfs her
branches wave, the leaves rustle

she stops, embraces the breeze
she smiles, “yes, he knows”

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

“Come, Michael – dance with me”, Angela teases as she slides her hands in mine. She begins to move her body in rhythm with imaginary music. I can’t stop myself from smiling at her obvious attempt to distract me – and of course it works … momentarily, as I struggle to keep pace with her movements. I laugh aloud as she starts to sing “so be wise and keep on reading the signs of my body” and exaggerates the movement of her hips.

“So, what – now you want me to change your name to Shakira?” I ask through laughter. She gives me a mischievous smile, “perhaps – you don’t think it fits?” “Another story perhaps”, I reply. “Another story – really – which one?” she pushes with more exaggerated rhythmic movements. “A new one, I think. Let’s write Café Glance first” I reply hoping to end this part of our conversation.

Angela releases my hands and slows her movement as we round the bend in the wooded trail. She turns away from me for a moment – with a familiar graceful movement. I feel her searching through my mind for clues to the new story. She suddenly turns to face me with a broad smile, “Yes, I like the feel of the new one Michael. Ok, we’ll wait.”

With that, I see her form more fully in front of me. Angela has long thick black hair which perfectly frames her face. Her saucer-like brown eyes seduce you within seconds. She has the body and grace of a ballerina. She is an artist, though she didn’t start out as one. Dance was her first passion – something about rhythms always seemed a natural part of her. She briefly considered dance as a profession, but the stress and routine of organized dance took the fun out of it for her. She looked for another creative outlet and found it in art.

I take her delicate hand and guide her to sit on the bench along the bend in the trail. “So, tell me more about how you became an artist and how you met Dylan” I begin. With the word “Dylan”, her eyes light up …

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Anna is an artist.

As we walk along the trail, I can’t help but wonder – my mind filled with several thoughts all competing for attention.  Anna purposefully ignores me for several minutes as she walks in front of me in comfortable silence.  Well, not exactly a walk – more a dance.  With graceful movements of her arms accentuated by her delicate fingers, she seems to conduct the breeze.  She silently laughs as the leaves rustle in seeming rhythm of her movements.

I watch in wonder as Anna lowers her arms with a sudden break in the breeze – the leaves settle back in place – waiting.  She whirls around to face me – gives me a mischievous smile. As usual, she starts our conversation as if answering an unasked question.  “Yes, Dylan says he feels me in the breeze when he walks”, she says.  “He says he naturally extends his fingers expecting my hand – I love that thought”, she beams. I smile at the memory of my walks with Dylan – the way he scoops the breeze with his fingers – a movement I now have as well.

I agree with Dylan – Anna has a certain way of smiling that takes your breath away.  But for me, it’s her eyes that capture you – luminous light green – almost cat-like.  She has long flowing auburn-colored hair – it flies free in the breeze – loose. On our walk today, she wears a simple white top with a turquoise skirt and sandals. She absently plays with the hem of her skirt, waiting for me to say something.  Then just like the breeze, she rustles her skirt and laughs, ‘It’s your canvas Michael – what do you want me to paint?’

Anna is going to be fun…

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Dylan is a writer.

As we walk along the trail together, He seems to be weighing out what to tell me. I feel there’s a certain sadness about him today. His shape slowly forms out the shadows in my mind. Dylan wanders casually along the trail as if he was alone – always a step or two ahead. Yet, there is an easy familiar connection between us. He’ll suddenly turn to face me at odd moments as we walk – seemingly searching for something in my face.

He has longish unkempt light brown hair – it almost distracts me from his face. But he has penetrating eyes that demand attention – hazel, I think. He smiles easily as we begin to talk. There’s a certain aliveness about him when we walk this trail. He plays with the breeze; his fingers extend to scoop up as much as possible. It always makes me laugh when he does that – but, now I find myself doing it as well.

Dylan dresses casually – jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt. He has on a button-down blue and white striped shirt today – not tucked in. He clearly has something he wants to tell me – but, I know his style a bit …

and wait…

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Waiting

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
He feels the rhythm of her heart
Lake waves slowly kiss the bank
Leaves dance and laugh in the breeze

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
Red cardinals play tag along the bushes
Squirrels scurry down the trees
His fingers idly drum on the park bench

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
Her spot empty next to him
Yet, he knows she must be near
Finally, he hears a familiar rustling

Waiting…

A certain moment in play
Her delicate fingers trace over his
Her delicious smile upon his lips
“Waiting for me?’ she teases

“Always”, he smiles pulling her close

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Sensation

his hand slides in hers
a sensation ripples through
caresses her heart

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Below the Surface

He slides his arm around her
As they walk along the path

He smiles as he feels her hand
Slip into his back pocket

They walk in comfortable silence
Several moments pass between words

A casual breeze greets them
Rustles the leaves of the trees

They begin talking of little things
The words – light – inconsequential

He smiles with the growing awareness

The meaning below the surface of words
The interplay of their unspoken thoughts

She squeals as he pulls her closer
She knows … he just wants her near

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Mischievous Breeze

She folds her delicate hand in his
As they walk along the path together

Sunlight filters through the maple trees
In a dance with a mischievous breeze

Playfully casts light and shadow about

Shapes of hearts form on the ground
Beating in rhythm with their steps

He says nothing – yet she feels his smile
She remembers his words as they entered

“Watch for nature’s language of a smile”

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Path to Her

She strolls through the woods
No particular direction in mind

Feels the breeze tease her skin
She smiles … thinks of his touch

She knows … her path is with him

Michael

Artist: Leonid Afremov

Serious Moonlight

They walk the trail – side by side
Comfortably silent in their thoughts

Quietly, she slides her arm inside his

Her eyes smile in the moonlight
Tells him more than words

Michael