A Play On Words
When I first noticed you, walking awayInto a bright new day, beneath this veneer
It was startlingly clear that I had no idea how
To intervene, interject or interfere
With your plan to just gradually disappear
Into back lanes which lead to the river.
Should I shout down the street, throw myself
At your feet, or just increase my pace,
Overtake you and say to your face “Fancy
Meeting you here!” And then we could steer
Our way through the crowds, to where words are allowed
To be honest and frank and forgiven.
Or shall I hang back, form a plan of attack
And continue to track your slow progress?
I could speak and confess, but lack of success would
Disturb, perturb and reverberate through
The part of my brain where there would still remain
A space with your shape growing dimmer.
