Email Poem

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Poem

people sound more in a hurry
and the way home seems longer today.
his late wife would have called this
a clip between time and reality.

shifting his cane, he reaches
to gingerly touch the cuff links
his wife had left him
from her grandfather.

he smells her  --
Cathryn who sells roses
on the town's square
where he would often sit feeding pigeons.

lavender is her scent --
the same as his wife's.
Cathryn says, "hello."
they stop for small talk.

they go on for a spell,
until things get awkward for him.
he starts to wring his hands.
a cuff link drops to the ground.

she says, "goodbye."
he says  he will stop by
for roses sometime.
she seems to vanish with the passers-by.

he takes the path of slippery stones
along the circle's round.
there, the path will become sturdy
and his tie will be the same.

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