Deja Vu Poem by Howard Pipe

I am passing through time,
and in the morning light
she waits at the bus stop,
like yesterday in black and white
and tomorrow, when the new day
breathes once more.

She is pounding her feet
at the junction, poised, eyes fixed,
a supreme athlete
waiting for the lights to turn;
waiting for her life to change,
I think it happened yesterday.

The same scenario
at the same time,
when my thoughts remember.
An awkward half smile
is all it takes,
and in the flicker of an eye

I pass through a recurring moment
when space and time overlap.
I am inside looking out as the day rushes by;
its pulse etched on their faces.
Mr Punctual and the dog walker,
I think I will see you tomorrow.