Was in a rush in the Jewel.
The check-out line with wilted flowers
When a slender hand
touched a droopy head
and said “You can do better than that.”
She was stunning as they say in our age.
I stuttered when I asked her name.
“Y-you know y-your flowers-, you b-beautiful dame”
Of course I didn’t say that. But my tongue was certainly twisted.
And I went back to the unsold batches
as she held my place in line.
It was an extraordinary moment when I returned.
Was she the reincarnation of my wife?
It took a lifetime for me to settle down.
“What did you say was your name?”
She said she hadn’t said and I was frightened to death.
“D-do you come here f-f-forever?”
“I think I do but you never know.”
Did we say that or my imagination?
Oh I know her. She’s the thoughtful type.
She’s lean and not mean. She’s a beautiful thing!
Like my wife who never nagged me!
I’m getting a headache just thinking about that ring.
Was she wearing one?
Yes we’re soul-mates no matter what.
Why can’t I remember her name?
You never asked, you dumb cluck.
Or did you, when she lowered her eyes,
trip over your goloshes!
How many chances do we let fly by.
As Brando in the Bardo State would say,
“I could-a been a pretender!’’
Instead I’m just a bum poet who fears the first date
and what might come ever after.