He crosses the footbridge
from station to concert hall.
Drink another one...
Watch the low sun, lined up with the river;
scabbed with loss.
Still hoping that this crossing
will be the meeting point
with
the one who spelt her foreign name on his shirt
last night
in the bar
just before she left.
She said she would cycle round the world with him.
He needed time...a day...to respond.
Now he believes
that to her
the hesitation was critical.
He may not see her again to explain
the stupidity
of the last times he was impetuous;
crass
rejected.
So he crosses the footbridge
aching with tiny hope
looking at everyone
looking for her.
Adding your comment:
