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Meeting And Passing

Rating: 2.7
As I went down the hill along the wall
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
And had just turned from when I first saw you
As you came up the hill. We met. But all
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less than two
But more than one as yet. Your parasol
Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust.
And all the time we talked you seemed to see
Something down there to smile at in the dust.
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Monday, January 13, 2003
Topic(s) of this poem: meeting
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COMMENTS
Susan Williams 10 December 2015
Even in the cities, we meet people on their way and we exchange a few pleasantries before going our separate ways and later we may wonder what we passed up
19 1 Reply

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