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Maybe

Maybe

 

It was a Wednesday,

A normal middle of the week day.

Or was it a Sunday, all the more

Portentous.

Did I wear green

After debating the monochromes.

Weren’t you in that gray bespoke suit

The one you got for a song on 81st.

 

I remember a scent.

Sweet, apple blossoms perhaps.

Isn’t that our favorite song playing suddenly,

Somewhere.

Did you lean over to stroke my cheek

For no reason whatsoever.

I might have put my arms around your neck

Surprising you from behind.

Was it a long time we stood there

Just like that.

 

Are we unfazed by the long wait for a table,

The sudden downpour,

The lineup for a cab.

Is that you mimicking Walter Raleigh,

Until I, the winsome damsel,

Protests no.

 

Do I imagine

Such enrapture,

Such fervency.

Or has time and yearning

Simply made it so.

Writer and Poet

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Tricia McCallum profile

Tricia McCallum

Always be a poet. Even in prose.
Charles Baudelaire.

In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]

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Tricia McCallum

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