Poem

Defying

logic, disobeying

physics’ laws, a chance

encounter on the five-fifteen —

hissing doors at Knightsbridge

station made him snap his head, while

commuters crammed and thronged, huddled

sheep, amidst a hundred harried faces,

(eyes glued to hand-held devices), a single

face, all fresh and unaffected. Jolted from

a lifetime of somnolence — from far across

the car, a look that lasted long enough —

imaginary shake of hands. The shadow of a

smile. Wiped off with violent tug at

South Kensington station, as doors

slide open with a hiss and shuddered

as it closed. No sooner did they flash

past Earl’s Court, a second glance

deemed necessary — how brazen now

we are. Sans protocol: unwavering the

stare when eyes do lock. Unspoken

words, inaudible the language.

Invisible the hand that cupped

her chin, a dimple in her cheek,

a mole below her ear, a hint

of rouge ascends, pleads

ignorance, but knotted brow.

She senses hesitation, he

missed his stop at Parson’s

Green! Reward him with,

the shadow of a smile.

Danie Botha was born in Zambia and completed his school education and medical training in South Africa. He has called Canada home for the past 19 years. He writes modern historical and contemporary fiction and blogs about positive aging and writing as healing.Visit Danie at DanieBotha.com.
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Danie Botha was born in Zambia and completed his school education and medical training in South Africa. He has called Canada home for the past 19 years. He writes modern historical and contemporary fiction and blogs about positive aging and writing as healing.Visit Danie at DanieBotha.com.

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