"This is how I’m going to die”
The thought echo’s through my mind,
As her silhouette slowly moves in front of me.
I knew her shape well enough.
I knew she preferred sun-dresses on days like this,
And I knew she would be reading today’s paper,
Liking the way the coarse paper felt in her hands.
I knew that this was her favorite coffee shop
Because it was directly across
From a flower stand which filled the air
With a light and sweet perfume.
So as she sat in the seat across from me,
and waited for my welcome before she could resume
reading the paper, which she read
with passing interest,
I was left with only this thought,
This is how I’m going to die,
Or perhaps this is how I wish to die,
Wishing and wanting more than anything in my life.
To pass into whatever is beyond knowing as much of this woman,
my love,
To hold as much of her as I could.