Passing Ships
He couldn’t recall an event
Or a time or even a place
Somehow he knew he knew
That approaching smiling face.
A night of flowing drinks
A night of many toasts
A night of copious alcohol
Supplied by generous hosts
A night of drunken wandering
Strange street intersections
Of turning left instead of right
A night off wrong directions.
Welcoming arms
To his surprise
To be replaced
By moans and sighs.
Coming suddenly awake in
A strange love wrecked bed
A fast emerging hangover
Pounding through his head.
Not his house
Not his room
An awful sense of
Impending doom.
The act of quietly dressing
To creep down a strange stair
Unobserved she watched him
Emerge into crisp morning air.
A night of unbridled passion
Of giving and taking
A night of unexpected and
Passionate love making
Silently she’d watched the stranger
As he disappeared from her sight
Contentedly musing on those
Ships that pass in the night.
Now he’d returned her smile
Though not knowing why
And the moment was gone
As they passed each other by.
Copyright © Terry Ireland | Year Posted 2022
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