The February Sun is setting
On my desire to be alone;
At last, I am free to enjoy
The world, whether the company
Is myself or someone else.

She looks down from the
Mezzanine bar to the small
Italian restaurant below,
Wondering when her life will
Become like the one played out
By the retired couple sitting
In the window, debate becoming
A form of relaxation, of comfort.

He wanders past the inviting
Door, feet momentarily bathed
In warm light as they carry him,
Step by step, to an empty flat.
He wonders which other lone
Travellers have a destination
That is only a place.

In the company of colleagues,
She is alone for the evening when
Togetherness is compulsory.
It is the one night when
A restaurant full of couples
Does not make time fly,
Even though it is just
Another day.

As I step out into the gathering
Gloom, I realise that I have
Finally traded cynicism for
Sympathy; as though I have
Reclaimed my heart from wherever
I had misplaced it.

Perhaps this is why wherever I am
Is always a good place to be:
At last, I am comfortable in myself,
So anywhere can be home.

02/14/2019

Posted on 03/23/2019
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince