Encounter.

You were taller than i thought,

wearing a mustard jumper

which was odd – i’d

imagined this, why would

i choose that shade?

We sat in an over-themed pub

perched high on bar stools,

sharing the table with strangers

who pressed up close

and butted in.

You were animated,

your words expanding

blowsy like the decor, despite

my continuing to read

the newspaper.

Yet it was you who ultimately

detached, without goodbye,

and i glanced up from the

small ads to see an

empty space.

Sandie Zand – 11th November 2015

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