Jo Thomas sat on the trestle
pulling her hair back
wagging her feet
to and fro above the river's
below.

Recalling the boy she had met there
five years ago
and how he had left
her

It seemed , to her,
like a lifetime
since she had held his gaze
in hers.

It had only been a month.
But, to , youth, to
young love
a day
might be a century.

She heard the whistle,
two of them again,
he used to call her from the woods
with a shrill hello.

She felt the tremble
of the wood
she just sat there.

She wanted to belong to him.

So Jo Thomas
gambled , perhaps
they could be
in eternity.