She is over there, where
The Sun is setting, and I am
Unsure which I am looking for
When I gaze at the sky.

As a coincidence, it is
Hard to accept; as an
Opportunity it is
Hard to take, no matter
How much I know I should.

Perhaps that can be my
Final farewell: to teenage
Desire, to pathetic hope, to
The possibility of friendship
That was never really possible.

Somehow, I doubt she would have
Needed the same. If she spotted me
In her peripheral vision,
Did she even recognise me?

If she did, I am at best
A funny story or
A vague memory, at worst
Someone she is glad
Is not in her present.

Whichever it is, I will never know:
She belongs in the past, with
The sunset, and as I head east,
Head home, I hope I can
Finally leave her there.

01/17/2026

Posted on 08/02/2026
Copyright © 2026 Richard Vince