Your shirt was checked.
I hate checked shirts
I thought as I noticed you alone
In the corner with a coffee.

You must have left whilst I was engrossed
In Bryson's Europe.
Sorry I didn't notice;
Belgium is beautiful at this time of year.
I was dancing through the starlight streets
In a dress
I never wear dresses.

A coffee later
I am in Germany
Bored. Not my scene.
A boy rallies round on his scooter
Indoors!
You walk in. Again?!

Two coffees in one day
You must be tired
A briefcase - are you a worker
Like me
Kept away from December's festivities
I catch your eye
Awkward in these situations

You are sat opposite me
Purpose?
Bryson is touring Cologne. For once it sounds awful
But the 60 minute mark draws near
Though it rains outside
I must leave you here in the warmth
Back to a lonely work in the lonely rain.

Perhaps I could smile at you
As I close the door.

Obedient girls line up
To be conveyed down the aisle
Into the grasp of some master of a man.
Pearl cheeks and diamond eyes
Obscured by fine white threads.

But the mountains have spoken
Nature mocks conformity -
Today her veils are thrown, and
Crumple softly in the valleys.
She is promised to no one.

Streams spring,
Their ancient paths traverse many a love lost.
Again the rains have come,
And I must get to my feet.