My Poetry

Whisper it to Me

She dressed for sun. Cold rain tapped her shoulder through a light jacket

Open sandals on feet crossed under a small wooden table,

hoping to feel warm sand - a pushing tide onto small rocks.

Sitting, looking at him, as he talked with gusto. 

Silence engulfed her, she nodded and smiled.

The table set for two with a rose sitting erect in a cloudy jam jar.

A small candle fluttered soot to the beams.

Outside the evening darkness crept along the city wall.

He chatted now to the waiter and her heart dropped another beat.

Out to the street she glanced where her thoughts lay damp and trodden.