It was the day after
JFK got blown away
and Judith saw Benedict
briefly after work

outside the gas station
where he worked.
Shame about the President,
she said, I quite liked him.

Yes, ******, Benedict said,
why do they do that?
Why blow away a good man
When there are plenty

of bad buggers to blow out.  
Judith looked up at the moon;
her coat was buttoned up
tight to keep out the cold.

How are you? she asked.
Benedict gazed at her.
So so, bored with the job,
**** gas and oil and all that

moaning from the customers.
It comes with the territory,
she said. Apart from that then?
she said. He smelt her perfume;

it was different from her usual.
New scent? She smiled. Yes,
glad you noticed, she said.
Bought it from my own money

instead of having to borrow
my mother’s. That other stuff
was your mother’s? Yes, she said.
God, no wonder it was bad, he said.

She hit his arm. Only joking he said.
How can I tell with you? she said.
When I smile, then I’m joking.
She sniffed the air. Frost coming.

He looked at her walking beside him,
her hands in her pockets, her headscarf
on her head, her hair escaping,
the moonlight catching it.

Cold? he asked, I know how we
can get warm. Not tonight and not
how it went before, she said.
Shame, he said, the moon’s out full

and the stars are bright.
Do you love me? she asked.
Of course I do, he said.
Then wait, she said.

He wanted to hold her hand,
but it was shoved in her pocket.
Can I kiss you? he asked.
She stopped by the roadside.

The hedgerows were like
small dark walls, trees stood
like silent giants. She took out
her hands and held him close

and they kissed. It was the first time
they’d kissed in a while, he
recalled the time before, her lips had
pressed lightly then, half not wanting

to, half unsure. He sensed her lips
there, the pressing was firm, her
warmth warmed him. He held her
about the waist, wanted to touch

her skin, her nakedness. Their
lips parted. They stood looking
at each other. He saw her eyes
catch moonlight, tears reflected.

She sensed a growing apart, she’d met
another, at work, in the town,
wasn’t sure where it would go.  
Benedict sensed uncertainty there,

something out of place,
a connection loosened, despite the kiss
and hold. The darkening night,
the biting of the cold.