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The Colour Green
As I stood
Just outside my lonely house
Cursing the cold.
I saw them
Across the street
Under the flame tree.
A leaf fell on her hair
She cared not.
He was more concentrated
On brushing her hot red lips.
Cold wind blew but
They hugged closer
Feeling each other’s warmth.
Rain dropped slowly
They did not move.
He just opened his brolly.
The kissing did not stop.
Then I saw her face.
It was my ex.
I turned sickly green.
But not of the cold.
Copyright ©
Victor Buhagiar
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