The Eyes Have It

The “Eyes” Have It

There are many summers, but we only get one
to remember, the rest ends up in a blur.
This particular one had lasted long and the girl
I loved lived across the river, a nice little stream
that serenely floated down to meet its doom
the salt sea. Late September still summer though,
but the window in her cottage was shut, knocked
on her door, a neighbour came, said she had gone
to abroad with her old boyfriend who was Danish.
Unseemly haste! I smiled, shrugged my shoulders,
women! And I suffered the longest night.

Daybreak brought a chill in the air, dark clouds
congregated and it rained. Many years later I was
served in a bar in Copenhagen by an old woman
carrying too much make up on her warn face, but
those eyes, a memory stirred. Her hand shook when
pouring beer into my glass, yes I know all those
long nights, she didn’t look at me and swiftly left
through the back door and a younger woman took
her place. I left soon after, outside I looked up and
saw the curtain on the first floor move; those eyes
I had seen them before, but refused to remember.