It was Sunday evening- about 4:30 when
He left my apartment and said he didn’t want
To hit traffic.
I smiled, cordially, and walked him to the door-
Gratifying him, happy that he was able to make it over.
The door opened- he stood in the doorway with
his outstretched hand.
My instinct was to ignore it.
Looking in his eyes, I felt the pit of
My stomach drop- and my mouth was hanging low-
I could feel it.
But he mustn’t know-
Neither could Samantha in the kitchen.
What a mess it would be for either one to know...
So I swallowed hard and smiled again.
I shook his hand and closed the door.
She said something and I sat down again
At the table we had all just eaten.
I looked at the chair he sat on-
And, for a moment, saw a glimmering thing.
Upon inspection, it was his lighter-
Some chrome contraption.
It had cost him a few dollars
But for me it was worth it all-
To serve as a reminder
For what might have been.
Some other life- a different time and place.
Some day in that life I might
Give it back
And in reward feel his warm embrace.