The Blossom In 1944 Poem by Sarah Jane Black

I found her in 1944
She was tall and could
Easily be mistaken for a man
If looked at from behind
I went back to see this woman
I don't know why—
She was practically a stranger to the
Person I knew
Following her into a café,
She quietly tried not to notice the stranger
Stalking her familiarly.
Closing and opening doors
like a choir in the night
we paraded through town,
On four inch heels
Only when I saw the span of her hips and
The frown in her eyes
Was when I knew what I needed to tell her
So methodically
I slipped her a smile and tied the message in
The dimples on my right cheek
And the words threaded in my teeth
She responded across the room
With a twist of her lips
And a teardropp on her cheek…
I was dumped into the present after that—
Like wetted cardboard is thrown out
Once it has no use.
When I look at her now I see that
My message wasn't without cause.
I thank the nameless source...
Perhaps she does too.