by Richard Vince

When I looked at her, I saw
A girl who raised her eyes
To the heavens and flung her gaze
Beyond the red shift.

She also saw the girl who
Could not look at herself
In a mirror; who kept her eyes
Focussed on her feet, on the gutter,
On nothing as her mind told her
Believable lies that drowned out
The voices of truth.

Perhaps that is why she said it:
She believed plausible was
Better than positive.

My pathetically romantic heart
Could not see the logic,
And selfishly went for broke;
That I was not believed was
My fault alone.

Sometimes, certain is not certain.
It is like forecasting: bets must
Be hedged at least a little,
As absolutes are not trusted.

Today is the thirteenth day
Of clear skies and blazing Sun
In a row, but every day there has
Been a chance of rain, or
So we are told.

But even if the deluge had
Arrived, it would still be
Summer, no matter what people say.

Beauty is in the heart
Of the season; if that is
What I meant, I should have known
That I meant the beauty
She could never see.


Posted on 07/13/2018
Copyright © 2020 Richard Vince

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