But you said I could only touch you
from the direction of the wind.
It was south-south-east at the moment
but at only three miles an hour.
I feared you would interpret it
only as a breeze.
Splitting hairs? You were
quite particular that Wednesday.
In a mood not to be trifled with.
You carried a note pad for taking names.
You had yet to call me Honey
or Sweetie or some other pet name.
I saw your shadow flicker
and snap straight like a flag.
From the direction of the solar wind
I approached you.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
