Misunderstanding

Each winter for some years my job took me to the blue hills where in a sleepy remote town I had met you. You told me simple stories of your rustic life, how to cross rapids in stream, chase butterflies. I took you on a journey of urban fantasy, told how to climb the high-rise, fly in the sky. In the last winter of my job there when I met you in the glow of the setting sun I saw your radiant face trying to express the unsaid, I knew what. Your eyes said it all when I said goodbye, as I saw your dreams flowing away in tears, ‘you misunderstood me’, I said silently, ‘I am sorry’. April 28, 2019