Jane climbed off
the Saturday bus to town

her black hair ruffled
by the wind

her eyes
looking over at you

her mother close by
you standing by the wall

having climbed from the bus
a few moments before

your mother stood
and spoke to others

you watched as Jane buttoned up
her coat against the winter cold

her fingers turning blue
then she moved over to you

and said
I saw you by the water tower last night

as we drove by
my father visiting

a parishioner in the village
I was watching the sun

moving beyond the Downs
you said

like some giant moving
away to sleep

she smiled
and surreptitiously

she touched your hand
her mother’s head

looking the other way
talking to your mother

of her husband’s work
of church or of weather

or whatever
you gazed at Jane’s eyes

the turn of head
the smile on lips

the way her hands touched
oh to be with her

away from others
to talk and walk

and capture each moment
with her closeness

but then her mother
moved away to shop

and Jane followed
just behind

and as she walked away
you painted her figure

and beauty
in your mind.