Image source: Google
Next Time
Every day
at the same time
she catches him.
Back of the bus,
eyes fixated
on his handheld
luminous rectangle,
corners of his eyes
softly, sadly yielding
to gravity.
Every day
at the same time,
she catches him
surreptitiously
studying her
from behind the
safety of his
luminous rectangle
as her blush-brush
burnishes
her best face.
Every day at the same time,
for the beat of a hummingbird’s wing,
they are locked within the same space-time,
with her smirking a silent challenge;
is today the day?
Am I stunning enough for you
to break the ice and say
good morning?
Every day
at the same time,
the answer is always yes
she is indeed stunning enough,
and
every
day
at that same time,
he stubbornly ignores
this obvious answer.
Every day at the same time,
before the hummingbird
flaps wing for a second time,
his eyes retreat to his rectangle,
only to feel her eyes
burning him from behind
her bronzing brush.
Every day, like clockwork,
within the third flap
of a hummingbird’s wing,
he returns her hidden gaze
wondering if this woman
was willing to breach his
technological barriers
to lift the corners of his eyes
with a peacock-feather-brushed
good morning.
Every day,
at the same time,
the answer is always yes,
but not today.
Today,
unlike every day,
after their daily ritual,
both resolved to take action.
Next time,
the burnished,
blushing lady said to herself,
if he doesn’t greet me,
I will move closer to him and ask
if he sees anything he likes.
That should break the ice.
Next time,
the sad-eyed man said to himself,
I’ll just take an earlier bus.
Image source: Google
** *
Posted to imaginary garden with real toads for Physics with Björn: Space time and the special theory of relativity. Björn has us writing poems about space time! I know! So dope, right? I like to think that I would’ve made a pretty rad astrophysisit if I hadn’t wasted all those formative years hating myself and whatnot. Ah well.
(I left astrophysicist intentionally misspelled just so that everyone could have a clear idea of how far away I am from becoming an astrophysicist.)
Anyway, head on over and check out all the wonderful poetry about space time.
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 
This a sad irony that they ignored or didn’t dare to seize that opportunity to say something at least…
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this is really good. and reminds me of how I first saw my soon to be GF, then wife, now ex… as we both took the J-Church from Noe Valley to 5th and Market in San Francisco, back in the dark ages before cell phones. ~
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Puts a spin on ‘time waits for no man’ the man having taken an earlier bus, skipping a beat in time avoiding … maybe he was wise?
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I think this is a brilliant response to the prompt.
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Chortles and guffaws !Under no circumstances make contact with that woman on the bus. She’s a loony:)
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I liked the ending: One way to avoid that same space-time simultaneous potential encounter is to take a different bus.
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Oh this is soo good! Brought back a lot of wonderful memories 🙂
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Thank you Sanaa. Also, while I have your ear, I’m having a hard time getting my comments to stick to your blog! No error message, but when I submit, nothing. My comment just disappears.
Think it might be a spam filter?
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