1967

were these the last words I write

the first would be the hardest

I would recall the very first sight

the serious girl, aloof, elegant

I thought you beautiful

and far too fine for me, then

our first rendezvous on the lawn,

you a settled fawn, intriguing, quizzical

while I foolishly filled the silences,

and after all this time, 

some fifty years or more

you might capture my eyes

and still know

I need not speak one word

*

© Graham Sherwood 05/2021