Poem By Dr. Charles A Stone
It was not a chance encounter,
the two of us sitting next to one another
at a counter piled eye-high with expectations,
your asking me to please pass the cream,
my eyes savoring your croissants.
I believe someone was playing with us that day
and we were willing players in the game -
perching like blue jays on our stools,
introducing ourselves with a flourish of napkins,
rearranging silverware in kama sutra positions.
I wasn't surprised when you offered to share
your two-for-the-price-of-one croissants
and you were nonplussed when I sipped
your ice-water and picked up the checks,
before helping you into your parka.
We were strangers who weren't strangers -
I knew which was your car without asking,
you knew that I was Virgo,
had a birthmark high on my left thigh and
traced it on the back of my gloved hand while I skated
into your glacial blue eyes
as I have on so many other occasions,
etching my name on the smooth surface
of your psyche, a reminder that I am
your evening star in a parallel universe.