November 22, 2012

Young love



They sit at the bus stop
the street is dark and wet
winter punches their breath out
in smoky huffs

I am not the only one
who sees how perfect they are
shiny and laughing

the old man beside them stares
as though they don’t really exist

what is he remembering
as his eyes water

is it his wife
or further back
his first girlfriend perhaps
when he was tall and lean
when a freezing cold night
was just an excuse
to cuddle.

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