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An American Dream

A Poets' Romance

By Almárëa LaurësilPublished 6 years ago 7 min read
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Img source: https://pixabay.com/en/love-sunset-together-177785/

I looked around the nice restaurant. There were not many people here, just a few couples scattered around the room immersed in their own conversations. I could not remember the last time I had been in a city bigger than my hometown. My cousin, Christina, had moved to New York City a few years back. I rarely left my small home in rural Massachusetts. She convinced me to come and visit her. When I arrived, and we had caught up with each other; Christina told me that she knew a man that I should meet. I was not too anxious to meet a man. I had some unsavory encounters in the past. She believed that I was too shy. To make her happy I agreed to go on the blind date. Christina told me that he was a poet and that she had met him at one of his readings. I guessed that since he wrote, too, at least we would have something to talk about.

I met this woman a few weeks back at one of my numerous poetry readings. Her name was Christina. She was quite interesting and we exchanged addresses, so that we could keep correspondence. A few days ago in one of her letters, Christina informed me that she knew of a woman that I should meet. She told me that it was her cousin, Emily, who was coming to stay with her in a fortnight. I love meeting new people, so I wrote back as soon as I could saying that I would enjoy very much to meet her cousin.

I glanced up at the clock. I wondered when this mystery man would show. Christina had planned for us to meet for afternoon tea at one. It was almost quarter after one. He should have been here already. I started to worry if maybe he would not show up. Had he decided not to come after all? Maybe I was just over thinking it. The jingling of belts alerted me that the front door had opened. I turned to look and saw a man walk through the door. He was a broad-shouldered man with a beard. He must have been my date for he began to approach the table where I was seated.

As I walked through the door, I saw Ms. Dickinson for the first time. She was a petite, fair-skinned woman with beautiful red hair and was clothed in all white. She had a kindly face, and she gestured for me to sit with her at the table. I sat across from her and extended my hand.

“Hello, ma’am. My name is Walt Whitman.”

She hesitantly returned my handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Walt. My name is Emily Dickinson.”

Emily had a soft-spoken voice that was pleasant to the ears.

“Your outfit is quite lovely.”

“Thank you. Christina told me you are a writer. I am, too. I dabble in writing poetry.”

“That is wonderful! I also write poetry.”

Emily smiled, and what a smile it was. She practically sparkled with joy. After a little while longer, a waitress came and asked us what we would like.

“I would like some honey lemon tea, please.”

“I shall take the same.”

Walt seemed like a very nice man. I wondered what this encounter would lead to.

“I was wondering, Walt, what do you write about in your poetry?”

“In many of my poems, I express how wonderful the country we live in is. What do you write about Emily?”

“I tend to write about experiences from my own life. They're not really that good.”

“Now, I do not believe that. They are probably wonderful.”

“Would you like to hear one?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Much Madness is divinest Sense—

To a discerning eye—

Much Sense-the starkest Madness—

‘Tis the Majority

In this, as All, prevail—

Assent-and you are sane—

Demur-you’re straightway dangerous—

And handled with a Chain— “

“I like your poetry. I believe that it is very good.”

“Really? Thank you, Walt! Can I hear some of your poetry?”

“Most of my poetry is fairly long, and sadly I do not have any of my poems memorized. I can give you a copy of my book.”

“I would like that.”

“Here are your drinks, sir and ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“Will that be all for you two?”

“Yes, that will be all.”

“Ok, have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

For a while, both of us just sat in silence enjoying each other’s company. I started to look around the restaurant that Christina had picked out. She told me that it was her favorite. I could see why. It was quite fancy I noticed as I observed the décor. My cousin was always a little eccentric. Maybe that was why she had chosen to move from our little hometown in Massachusetts to the big city.

“Walt, where are you from originally?”

“I born in Long Island and grew up in Brooklyn. Where are you from?”

“I have lived all of my life in the small town of Amherst, Massachusetts.”

“New York must be quite different from your home then.”

“Yes, it is quite the change of scenery. I am not used to so many buildings. My home in Massachusetts is surrounded by fields of gazing grain.”

“Good or bad change?”

“Good, now that I am talking to you, Walt.”

He smiled sweetly at my words. I found myself staring into his sapphire eyes, so I turned away quickly. I wonder if Walt realized I was staring. I hoped I was not blushing right then. That would be so embarrassing. We were both quiet again. The only noise to be heard was the chattering of assorted couples throughout the room.

“I hear America singing through the conversations in this room. The varied carols I hear shared between the groups as their own. Singing with open mouths their song melodious songs.”

“That is beautiful, Walt.”

“Thank you.”

Now that both of us had finished our tea, and Walt had covered the bill; we decided to leave the restaurant.

“Where are we going to go next, Walt?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Walt walked next to me down the street. It was a pleasant day. The sun was shining, and it was quite warm. Soon we could see the ocean off in the distance. As we walked we could see a ferry docked in front of us.

“Would you like to go on a ferry ride with me Emily?”

“I would like that very much.”

I paid for our tickets and helped Emily onto the ferry. She followed me to the railing of the ferry facing out to the ocean.

“Have you ever been on a ferry before?”

“Only once with my family when I was very little. I do not remember very much of the trip.”

“Oh, look over there Emily. You can see the Statue of Liberty.”

“I have never seen Lady Liberty. I feel as though I’ve known her from the talk of an ample nation. She stands bright and tall as a symbol of the freedom of our nation.”

“Ah yes, she is one of the most iconic symbols of the nation of stars and stripes. The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem. The Americans of all nations at any time upon the earth have probably the fullest poetical nature. There are so many wonderful things in this nation that fuel my writing. Here is not merely a nation but a teeming nation of nations.”

“I love our country - a melting pot of different nationalities coming together as one.”

I loved being able to see the Statue of Liberty up close. This ferry ride was very peaceful and enjoyable. By the time we had made it back to the dock, it was dusk.

“The sunset is so beautiful.”

“Yes, it is, Walt. The setting sun shines, upon the valley glow, such a beautiful light of orange and gold.”

“The day is almost over. Would I be able to walk you to your cousin’s home?”

“I would like that very much.”

I was walking quite close to Walt as he led me back to my cousin’s home. As we were walking I laced my fingers through his. He squeezed my hand back. I was very happy.

“Emily, I was wondering if you would like to go out with me again tomorrow?”

“I would like that very much. A soul selects her own society, and I choose to spend my time with you.”

We walked back to Christina’s house in a comfortable silence. As I started to make my way to the front door, Walt touched my arm, stopping me, and I turned to him.

“Every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”

He kissed me lightly before bidding me farewell. I could hear Christina’s distant strains of triumph from inside. I turned, after watching Walt’s figure fade into the distance, closing the door behind me.

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About the Creator

Almárëa Laurësil

I'm an aspiring writer, artist, and musician.

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