CHANCE MEETING
Months after we finally parted
we had occasion to meet
on the corner of Main Street.
After a friendly hello
and what do you know
and how does it go
I noted with disbelief
that his hair is thin,
his chin weak,
his lips curl down,
that his eyes are beady
and his clothes a bit seedy,
he wears a perpetual frown
and what I thought was a grin
is really a scowl,
and he isn't as tall
as I seem to recall.
We had nothing much to say
and as I walked away
I sadly laughed at his conceit
and all those years of my self-deceit.
(From: Out Of Love And Other Poems, by Kitty Madeson (1993) Stone Soup Poets, Boston.)
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