As I skipped the cobblestone streets under the lamplight
in anticipation of our first secret encounter,
I summoned the butterflies to settle down;
my thoughts to stop straying.
“Let’s rendezvous at this little coffee shop on the corner of Elm and 2nd.”
he suggested the day before,
adjusting his tie
as he took the documents from my hand.
“You know the one, Hallowed Ground. It’s nice and quiet there.”
I did indeed know the one.
It’s where all the ad men met up with the secretaries.
It was notorious and no doubt mentioned in many divorce papers.
So, there I was standing in front of it;
my hand on the door handle.
About to open up a world of trouble.
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What a wonderful prose poem! What I always love about your work is the way you write about small telling moments. 'adjusting his tie,' 'he took the documents from my hand.' Just terrific!
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