Wednesday, December 14, 2005

What I remember....

You were walking down the street like an elegant lilly in a long wool coat to prevent the snow from chilling it's contents. Your face was wrapped in a shawl, and all that was visable was a wisp of hair blowing heroicly in the snowbound wind, and those eyes. Those eyes-who could forget those eyes. Those piercing eyes, bounding their way through ice and snow, melting winter into spring with every gaze you met. Those eyes, inviting even the most wonton beggar to the table, offering compassion and care. Those eyes melted me down from miles away, yet I had no idea what made me so warm on this hard winter's day.

Your hands were full of packages neatly wrapped, and the bags from Macy's and The 4 seasons were overflowing with the gift you purchased with all the thought and care that a friend could bring.
A sweet little sailor's suit for the little one, a french press for your father(so only he could have 40-bean cups of coffee) and even something for yourself, because somebody will for sure forget that even the most beautiful woman needs a little perfume to make her day.

But even with this love and care from you, Ice that forms on the street knows not from the lovely and the wicked. Under the slick of the ice, your shoe failed, and you fell.Packages here, packages there, and you lying on the ground, the snow falling on your shape.

I happened to be leaving a difficult meeting over an even more very difficult client. I had parked as close as possible, but I needed to cross the street to get to my car, wanting only a fast getaway-today was rough, and I retreat into myself on days like today. But my visage was met by the sight of a well dressed woman on the ground and the look of Christmas everywhere. I stumbled across the street, and it was then that I saw those eyes.

Those eyes.

At first I was taken aback, because all that I saw were those eyes, and then a voice that said, "I think that I twisted by ankle". I saw this beauty, this warm among the cold, and just knew. I offered her to grab onto my neck, and I pulled her up and helped her collect her bags. We hobbled across the snow and barely escaped into a doorway before a snowplow scraped the ground where only a few minuites earlier, an icy fall was offered.

I opened the door to this building with one hand, with her hand over my shoulder and we drug ourselves into the warm lobby. It was then that the wrap of a shawl was removed from your face, that face that however twisted from pain, was as soft as an angel and sweet as mint. And I knew, from this day forth, my life would never be the same again.


Does this sound about right?

22 Comments:

Blogger ~Deb said...

Wow, that was beautiful and very well written. I read it word-for-word. You have such a beautiful imagery. Your description of it all is unreal!

You're one helluva' writer! Is this a true story, if I may ask?

11:05 AM  
Blogger Just Some Gal said...

I'm still in awe of it.

Still.

I wish I were that lucky lady.

Horses, compassion, talent with words...

Are you real?? ;-)

Beautiful.

11:16 AM  
Blogger Amey said...

You are an incredible writer!

4:31 PM  
Blogger Betty on the Beach said...

Wow - I think you got all the ladies swooning with that post.

6:47 PM  
Blogger New York Red said...

White roses and hear pure as snow sounds perfect for John, and this story sounds perfect for you and her...

9:10 PM  
Blogger New York Red said...

heart pure as snow....;-)

9:11 PM  
Blogger Geoffrey Hirschfeld said...

Hey all-I was actually writting this for my friend Blondie's blog, and as I remember she said to post it on "your" blog and see what happens. Well,aparently this is it!

The sad thing is, my longing for real snow and someone to share it with is the basis for this-nobody in particular in mind. Sorry,this was just an image that I had of a snowy street in Downtown Spokane.But it is a very real image for me,as I have lived it so many times as an outsider looking in and smiling.

Thanks for the love, y'all. Sometimes I take some time off of being obnoxious and actually "get my pen on".

9:29 PM  
Blogger LisaBinDaCity said...

You are SO romantic. Sigh. I want someone to write that way about me...

8:40 AM  
Blogger Chloe' Gardner said...

That was so beautiful... You're such a talented writer!

1:48 PM  
Blogger Faye_Hart said...

That was dreamy. You are a gifted writer.

2:31 PM  
Blogger The Stevo in H-Town said...

Dammmnnn.....*****...witha bullet^..


Good stuff..

4:38 AM  
Blogger ann said...

Hey geoffrey hirshfeld, that was one of your best. It certainly sounds about right.

lotsa luv ann xxxxx

6:43 AM  
Blogger Thomas said...

Quien es this Tractor place you are talking about?

7:24 AM  
Blogger Laurie said...

It's snowing here ;-)

Awesome writing.. very romantic.

11:24 AM  
Blogger DNY LOVES CRIMINAL MINDS said...

Really beautiful writing! You are extremely talented. Thanks for sharing it with us! :)

7:27 PM  
Blogger joey♥ said...

what a beautiful story. beautiful language and imagery.

12:11 AM  
Blogger Genna said...

WOW. This was stunning work!

1:14 PM  
Blogger Thomas said...

If I were you I would keep all my trade secrets to myself, Geoffrey.

4:58 PM  
Blogger Tanisha said...

GH that's it, I moving to Washington and you and I will have lots of half french babies together and and and.. Aw shit, I can't write like that..lol.. I love reading your blogs, they always lift my spirits..
T

9:07 PM  
Blogger Tanisha said...

PS I made somewhat of a response to this post on my blog.. Muah!!

9:56 PM  
Blogger HS said...

yeah, I was captivated from this post from the first sentence...it was fantastic!

I hope that one day I can inspire someone to write that beautifully.

4:51 PM  
OpenID coojo02 said...

Geoff, is that you?

It's Josh Coolbaugh

mail me at joshandjorg@hotmail.com

4:18 PM  

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