by Richard Vince

He drinks red wine from
A plastic glass and ignores
The world outside, while
I watch the sea of grass
And trees through the
Wishful air.

She reads about people in
A magazine, because it
Tells her they are special;
It makes her want to
Meet them. I want to meet
Her, because she is
No less special.

He has never been this way
Before, yet he would rather
Immerse himself in the
World inside someone else’s
Imagination than see this
Little corner of the world.
I have seen it countless
Times, but never tire
Of its beauty.

She finds it hard to be
Alone, but fears the comfort
Of strangers, so she tries to
Talk to friends or resorts
To familiar music. I am
Content on my own, but
Wish for the confidence
And charm to coax
Her face into a smile.

I hope that joy awaits
Them at the end of
This small part of their
Journeys. I know I must
Wait a little longer
To find mine again.


Posted on 07/28/2009
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 07/29/09 at 04:26 PM

There is a quiet feeling of patience and sweet observation, of just breathing and feeling the joy of that simplicity in this. I took a deep breath, like I was home...

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