I was looking in the Bookshop window
When the train rumbled in
I turned, affecting nonchalance, and
Leaned against a cold stone pillar
Heart racing, mind whirring

A small and pretty bird-like woman
Wrapped against the cold, came into view
I thought, can this be her?
No, surely not, and then you smiled
At me!

All I did that day was gabble like a fool
Delighting in your company
And tripping over my tongue
All the time we [I] talked you seemed
To see something that amused you

The strangest feeling I was less than two
But, somehow, more than one
I found your voice enchanting
Tiny hands punctuating your story
With laughing, questing, eyes

I nervously asked, “Shall we meet again?”
You only took two years to answer
And then said, “Yes, why not?”
I sat there, pasta sauce on my pink tie
And thought, “This doesn’t happen to me”

All we did that day was mingle footprints
In the dust of our past, but
You were kind, and gentle, wise and
Astonishingly, you seemed to like me too
And so the smallest seed began to grow


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