Encounter

Encounter

A Poem by Dean

Beautiful girl,
a chance first sight of you
creates a steaming furnace
from a heart of ice
in one tumultuous instant.

 

After that
I see you everywhere
on streets,
in shops,
in restaurants
and in the city park
one time.

 

Of the lovliest I've known,
no parallel contests
this archetype of lovliness
who will not compromise
her being for a moment,
and nothing more may be demanded
ever...ever.

And then, surprise, a scant half-block away,
you appear again,
coming toward me on this sidewalk,
set apart for pleasant strolls.


At once my evening reverie is set aside,
for Botticelli's arm would tremble at the sight
that your approach reveals.
Your garment floats in cadence
with your step.
As sand dunes shift in wind, the soft material
will mold itself against your body
to disclose its perfect form.
With each nuance of motion,
in every frame of time,
you re-enact the history of grace.

 

Now closer,
I can almost hear your footsteps...
the field of vision narrows to our eyes,
and I am mesmerized.
Is my desire reflected in them?
Ah, but seared the channel of my sight
with unrepentant passion--just a flash of lightning          
could set it afire.


Two steps away, I see you smile.
What might you say?
and what dare I?...
Then there is scent,
and breath,
and paradise well nigh.
We meet!...

 

and, wordless, pass on by.
              ~

 

© 2013 Dean


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When I was fifteen years old, I swore that my mother had hit me for the last time. I packed a duffel bag, hid it in the basement, and did sit-ups all night in order to stay awake. At three o’clock in the morning, I tip-toed down the steps, went through the basement, grabbed my duffel bag, sneaking out into the dark. I walked until I reached the highway and stepped forward toward destinations unknown. To make a long story short, I ended up in Manhattan.

Looking back, I think I must have been like a rose among the weeds. I said hello to everyone that I passed, always shared a happy smile, and walked without fear out of fascination of all the things that I saw.

You see, I was from the south; and you never meet a stranger in the south. Everyone says hello to each other. You always smile and receive a smile in return. There’s a courtesy born in small towns that cities seem to lack.

Still, even here, with the hellos and the smiles, it’s a courtesy. Very few ever look deeper than a glance.

The younger generations are too busy looking at the smart phones and would sooner text than share a happy word.

It is very sad indeed.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Aaahh...the chance encounter. It's amazing how often this actually happens. I've had this happen to me in the last month. Sometimes the things that aren't said are best left that way. If the encounter had gone on to conversation and the like, all of these beautiful questions would not have found their way into your mind. To me, at least, this is a piece about observation; more about the idea and visualization than the actual girl or lack of words. Well written.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Dean

11 Years Ago

You got it!...and the idea, of course, is the ironic end, where neither boy nor girl dares to abando.. read more
Girl Friday (Sarah W.)

11 Years Ago

It happens all too often...
What a lovely picture of a lovely girl

Perhaps a wordless enounter is best...if she'd opened her mouth, you might have lost all interest.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Dean

11 Years Ago

Thank you, but the focus should be on the surprise failure of each

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Added on June 5, 2013
Last Updated on June 5, 2013

Author

Dean
Dean

Chatsworth, CA



About
Retired teacher, radio personality, pipe organ technician more..

Writing
         The Real Soul The Real Soul

A Poem by Dean