At first
I thought it was
A second glance
You know,
The admiring spark
That jumps my way
Makes my day
Especially when it comes
From a younger man
Yeah, he was younger,
But...the look was longer
Than a second glance
And more intense.
I heed the invitation
To meet his eyes
Brown... brown eyes
Complexion dark
Curls... little ringlets
Frame his face.
A paper bag
Cradled in his arm
Hugged to his body
...A bottle of wine.
“I don’t want to drink it alone”
The message arced
Intense, unspoken
And tinged
With desperation.
A final flash
Before he passed
Proud defiance lit
The resignation
In his eyes.
“I know I cannot have you, Lovely Lady,
But this is not the end-
For what you have shared
You cannot rescind.”
.
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3 comments:
Thanks, Garnet, for sharing this, because it really strikes a positive chord. So many times I've been grateful to an unknown woman for a glance, a look -- first or second, it doesn't matter -- that tells me I've got something they find appealing. And whenever it comes, I always mutter to myself in passing, "Thank you for that, it means a lot."
Thank you, Beggar, for you comment. It was an electrifying encounter, in that for those brief moments I felt that I could read the fellow's mind. Not just guess what he was thinking, but know. A singularly odd sensation.
Those moments "are" odd, aren't they? For me, it comes as a feeling, kind of like tingling at the back of my neck and when I get it, there's no questions to be asked.
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