Meeting Again Poem by John a'Beckett

You'll surface soon, say, suddenly,
of all things in a Kovska tram:
two rugged-up passengers Time’s
traffic’s 'knocked about a bit',
oblivious outsider-lovers, are we
to the snow-stop korek, as we cram

our just-invented moments, care-free,
awkward off-times, out-of-places
into the crowded pack, our shuttle
battle-cocked existence where we
bet on destiny that we're two aces
in old gravity’s grand slam,

that is a blind-spot in the weather,
no clock that can determine us;
so let the city’s rail-rambled tram
just bumble on up to the terminus:
to when we two will be together
knowing what you are, I am.