Love on My Mind

It’s a love story gone on for about sixteen years,
she works in a post office, is small neat and sexy.
Divorced now she moved into her mother’s small
hotel and I walked past there on my constitutional
in the hope she would come out and invite me for
what is called a “Tryst.”

She did come out I looked at my watch and said:
“Must dash, got a doctor’s appointment.” Scurry
I did and was shouted at by drivers in big cars;
it’s not easy to be elderly and in love.

Last week I saw her sat near the window, in my
café, eating spaghetti bolognaise and reading
a magazine, I had had my lunch, no point eating
twice, and rushed by. She didn’t look up, perhaps
she is tired of waiting or doesn’t give a damn.