English Lit, she taught us;
Thin lips grey like rainy clouds,
Tar-black hair cut straight across the shoulder.
Beautiful she wasn't:
But something in me hurt.

And then one break, by accident
I opened the wrong door...
I wonder, still, if they saw me.

I am her age now,
And all I have is one report's
Tall, italic script:
'He shows little interest'
(Initialled) C.
I dream. She's reading a book,
Bare feet in the water:
'Richard', she fends me off
And I have no reply.

by Richard George

Comments (2)

Imagery, imegery, and more imegery.
This poem unfolds beautifully and then gently careens to its beautiful ending. I like your sparse yet colorful style. Please put some info about yourself in your bio section.