The Glance
The Glance.
A casual glance across a crowded street
Amid all the hustle and bustle of tramping feet.
Unblinking eyes that hold...but do not stare
Twinkling hello...without a care.
Glossy lips part and pucker...at the start of a smile
But this does not form...for many a while.
Painted fingers flex and bend at the start of a wave
Then decide...I am not that brave.
An arrogant shake...a toss of the head sending long brown hair
Cascading...beaconing...and saying...just what are you doing over there.
That casual glance across that crowded street
What a shame that we shall never...ever...meet.
Copyright © John Dawson | Year Posted 2021
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