Do others see what I see ...

In a bar or restaurant one evening about a year ago,
I found myself in a position where I could see a couple
sitting on the other side of the room.
A mirror was positioned at an angle where if I moved slightly
the man was masked and only the woman was visable
it then looked as though the woman was sitting across from me
on the other side of my table.


So I wrote as you came to me.

Everyone finds there place,
while a guitar plays a couple sit In a space far from everyone's war
they find love a deckade after there childhood shyness,
I heard them earlier say how they looked at each other then
as there hands met in the music filled mess of ego and flirts.
Calm passed around there blissful gaze.

Watching in the mirror above the empty fire space
imagining myself as her suitor,
I change my position to exclude him,
Carl from days gone past,
and think of you and me,
and wonder do others see the things I see,
a man so besotted he agrees with all the blonde desires,
the wife who has her nieche in friends of an outrages husband with a zest for fun
and all she wants is the end of the night,
Me scribbling while sleepless neighbours wish that it was morning
and they had better to look forward than the mundanity of sad eyes over
a breakfast of bleak tales of a world without light.

Life replays like a drowning mans life memories
as feverishly words strugle for space, 
my eyes never leave the mirror as might you disapear from my mind.
And then I too face the cold reality of morning
the empty space between two worlds,
I pause.
and I smile and chase sadness with the memory of gifts you shared,
your love still colours my world.

© Norman C Rees