Marie
She might have been a young-looking 35.
I’d have preferred that
although, even at that age...
And there was something so quiet about her face
I almost found it forbidding.
Still, when she went outside for a cigarette
I followed her with my American Spirits
and asked if I might join her
for the length of a smoke.
She made place for me
on the concrete step
of the building next to the café
and I sat down and lit up.
We exchanged little pellets of conversation,
the sort that might have been the prelude
to anything
or nothing
then she re-entered the café to finish her lunch
and I moved over to one of the outdoor tables.
Soon after that she emerged,
nodded at the other chair and asked
if she might join me.
Of course, I said, hoping for no more
than a few minutes more pleasant conversation
or love at last.
When she left to go back to work
we embraced and, Quebec-style,
kissed each other on each cheek
and promised to look for each other there
some other time.
