Valerie passing through

I flicked the bench clear

of tapas wrappers,

and, cool in my fedora, 

sat tapping out a textie,

 

‘outside the café,

wax jacket, hat,

you can’t miss me’

 

I took a risk

adding a couple

of upper-case kisses

 

she replied, ‘c u in 5’ -

despite her ‘wee kirk’ reticence

closing with a single ‘x’

 

the cafe was empty,

a pot of tea for me

mineral water, 

(extra lemon)

for Valerie

 

we ate curried dog shite

on a bed of re-heated rice,

side plate of chewy poppadoms,

some sour green stuff  - I left mine

 

drank dry white wine

Valerie chanced a small glass -

‘I’m driving... one should be fine’

 

we talked of faith

and faithlessness

partners past,

life and death

friends and family

 

our eyes met

fingers linked

she blushed,

‘you’ve lovely shining eyes’

 

I zipped back, 

‘that’s due to the view’,

like you do

 

hours fled

pale noon sunshine

turned stormy twilight

Lowry figures,

heads down against the rain

angled past the cafe window

 

we walked arm in arm

laughing at the torrent 

over spilling my brim

drenching my ducktail

 

from her cheek I wiped

a tear-drop rain-drop

kissed her soft compliant lips

and lightly brushed her fingertips

 

standing waving,

at her red lights

indicating left

I wondered

if Valerie was ‘the one’

 

or just the latest ‘one’

of a long, long, line

and, like the rest,

 

our paths would never cross again.