Brief Foreign Affaire
BRIEF FOREIGN AFFAIRE
Our last date - a garden meal.
Dark hair, moustache, flashing Turkish teeth:
His warmth of welcome made me feel
Sad to leave him there far beneath.
Now, hurtling home, it seems unreal -
We two amid that bridal wreath.
As I soar the Atlantic,
The photos stuck with tears,
My heart is near frantic,
Washing away all earlier fears
At meetings so darkly romantic.
The Michigan lakeshore appears
At last, geometric Chicago -
The foggy layer clears,
Memories seem long ago.
Distant prairie rushes
Towards the wings.
My cheek blushes
And heart sings.
Wheelscreech sound,
Dreams aground.
Home.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2014
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