The Kiss

The Kiss I had not seen her for many years just bumped into her on a Christmas busy street. We kissed hungrily, after all, forty years had passed and her allure was as before. The kiss reminded me of Rodin`s sculpture. She lived in the Canal road number fifty five we’re going there to make love, but I could not find my car and she evaporated like mist over woodland. Next day I looked up the town`s map, the canal street was a parking lot now and houses that stood here before torn down when the elders with a female mayor, was cleaning up the sin that so disturb the new moral we must live by now, My car was parked there looking demure beside a new Mercedes class A. Forty years, a long time, but I remember the kiss