Sunset

Back then, I would see you at sunset,
walking along the shore with your camera
and your dog,
as I was walking along with my camera
and my dog.
I was smitten, but we both were shy.

Once you sat down beside me
at the Alley Way,
and I bolted, too awkward and admiring
to sit and stay.

One day, on the bus, both of us heading
to the city, you confessed
there was a woman you had really loved,
but you had not been ready to commit
and so she did not stay.
"Now I am," you said, "but I have
a long-distance love."
"And then, there's me," I thought,
but did not say.

Now you live across the hall from me
in this old building. Isn't life strange?
We have both settled into the solitary lives
we did not plan.
We are both happy, maybe a little lonely,
resigned to our dogless existence,
still walking solitary shores at sunset,
cameras in hand.

Do you know that I once dreamed of you?
That when I ran away, that day, I've always wished
that I had had the courage and the confidence
to stay?


for Day 12 at Real Toads:   to write to someone who doesnt know we love them. Ha. He lives right across the hall from me, because life is ironic, like that.