You sat on the chair with a beam on your face.
Like a child offering candy to a stranger, you gave me your opener.
It was not once but twice.
I smiled to say thank you but your thoughts were far away.
I wish I had asked for your card, and then I would know your first name.
I have gazed at the pictures of the bloody bodies, eager to dentify the cherry shirt.
How will ever know?
Do I really need to know?
Maybe I should have persuaded you to follow my path,
But how could I have known?
I just followed the rhythm of the wind.
May be the angel of death passed you by,
Perhaps it was not yet your time.
I guess, I will never know.
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