The times I lost my way I reminisce
Ensnared in meanders crossing bridges
Between realities and dreams.
The night I met you an oneiric echo
Of what might have been as I struggle
To recompose the pieces of what never was.
Empty streets of Greenwich I walked
The pavement you the opposite sidewalk,
I was a stranger you a native dressed in blue.
My evasive attention caught by your steel
Grey hat, imbued in mixed emotions
Of circumspection and intrigued attraction,
A distinctive allure not sufficing to quell
The relentlessness of my prudence compelling
Me to pretend equanimous insouciance.
Darkness lit by the brilliance of the sole
Cheap diner effusing light through its glass
Wall curving at the corner, five cents a cigar.
I distinctly remember the streak of jade green
Tiles reflecting midnight reveries I entered,
Greeted by a handsome blond in white
Cap and coat pouring me a coffee with a smile
I sat, on the leather stool at the cherry wood counter
I leaned asking for a sandwich secretly longing
For you to come in, though forbidding myself
To turn my regard in search of you I still feel
The eyes of the lonesome gentleman
Solitary client mutely noticing my fidgety wait,
My shudder with the creaking of the opening door
As you approached, the warmth of your breath
On my neck as you stood behind me, until you sat
Next to me. You lit a cigarette and prattled
With the waiter, as our hands nonchalantly drew close.
That touch still resonates within me, shivers
Down my spine for an instant I adored you, yet
With dawn I lost you and never saw you again.
Nor did I ever find that little cheap diner
On Mulry Square as I returned,
Wondering whether it was all but a dream
A painting of what has never been.
[Featured painting: Nighthawks by Edward Hopper, 1942]