Bulbous, titanium clouds threatened snow,
As a bitter northerly swept through the street
Sending cans tinkling across the tarmac.
Scarfs flapped about commuters throats
Going about their daily humdrum routines.
You stood before the rusting gates of the park
An angel with shawn wings.
Your long, silken hair flapped about you,
Only adding to your mystery.
I knew you were the one I was meeting,
The red rose clutched in your hand our hidden signal,
But I knew at a glance I was not good enough for such perfection.
My own rose tumbled from my grip,
And rattled into the dark recess of a gutter.
You hadn’t seen me, you never would,
But my momentum carried me past you.
“Good morning,” I said politely, and touched my brow.
You smiled right through me, as
Hazel eyes hoped and searched for their knight.
I walked on, a momentary shadow on your day,
As the snow began to fall, and my heart began to chill.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done,
But by far the easiest decision.
I couldn’t have lived with the disappointment your eyes would have shown,
But I would forever hold the image of that hope,
And treasure that it was almost for me.
(Image courtesy of ValentinaKallias on deviantart.com)