ANOTHER LOVE POEM
 
Her face, her mouth is always smiling,
When we meet,
In some surprising place.
Her eyes, like those,
Of a doe in Winter.

When we meet all History's red-light streets
Seem to converge upon us;
Elizabeth and Essex,
Kathy and Heathcliffe,
Paris and Helen,
All over again.

In a bustling street,
With the frost beneath our feet,
Our awkward conversation,
And those wonderful things,
Necessarily left unsaid.

A voice in the dark says "fool, fool",
But I just turn my head.