Blackbird singing in the dead of night...

I walked today at lunch,
so fast,
so far.
The sun was blinding,
and I needed something to guide me,
so I reached deep into my phone
and found
(right there on top, where I left it)
Fleetwood Mac's Rumors.
It worked,
propelling me through the overly bright day.
Later,
I faced the pond as
I paced the back parking lot of my little office
while on hold with the insurance company.
There was New Orleans Jazz
miraculously
(hauntingly)
coming from the tinny speaker of my phone.
I glanced up, and there was a blue jay
so close,
perched in the tree with the big pink blossoms
(like the ones on the front lawn in Maine)
and I saw you in his handsome face, somehow.
I stepped closer
(slowly and softly)
leaning toward you in my mind,
but he spread his gorgeous wings and flew away.
I thought of you,
all those years ago,
and how close we were,
despite the vast distance.
I thought of your laugh,
and how much I loved teasing it out of you with my words.
I thought of your words,
and how perfectly in tune they were with my own
like two birds
singing in harmony.
I knew you inside and out;
you knew every thought in my head,
every beat of my heart;
you knew every inch of my body that a camera could capture.
And when it was time,
somehow,
you let me fly away
with the grace and and love of a true friend.
You were the one who tended the garden of me,
tenderly and constantly,
and then
walked me down the aisle
and handed me over to my groom.