RichardFein

A TRYST OF EYES

We sat opposite each other,
and between us was a human forest
of work-a-day souls who dreamed themselves
far away from that dark passage
as they rhythmically swayed
to the jolting of steel wheels on rails.
Between the buffeting bodies we could see each other.
At times I hid my rude gaze
in the aspirin ad above her head.
But some dandruff speckled her dark blouse,
her lipstick was slightly smudged,
and makeup hid crows feet around her eyes.
Her bashful eyes, in turn,
feigned a study of all the commerce crowned over my head.
What had she noticed about me?
I felt naked. Did she?
At last the station, and the car almost emptied.
A little closer and we could have touched,
but she was on the platform.
She had left the subway; she had left me.
The doors closed. The train moved on.
And through the window,
we shared a brazen last exchange,
a deep visual drinking, a ravenous beholding,
until the onrushing tunnel severed our mutual vision.

AN INTENSE STARE AND NOW SHE LOOKS AWAY

I don't know her? No! I do;
I do, I almost said that to her long ago.
An intense stare and now she looks away,
this gray-haired, slightly plump, middle-aged woman
wearing thick glasses over those fierce blue eyes.
And her eyes strain not to see me.
She hesitates, misses a step, but now regains her rhythm.
We draw near, closer still, I almost feel her breath.
And I smell her perfume! yes, a decades-old redolence.
Our street corner reunion lasts just seconds.
We were in each other's way and suddenly we're not.
And now we both pretend not to look back,
but the corner of my eye catches the corner of hers.
The distance between us grows. It always has.
My lips recall those long ago kisses,
but my cheek still stings from that last painful slap.
I manage to call out her name, her name, her name,
but see only the puzzled faces of passersby.
Once again I'm too late.
She's vanished from my sight or I've vanished from hers.
I stop and listen for her voice to call my name
but hear only a loud disharmony of traffic.

_____________________

Richard Fein was Finalist in The 2004 Center for Book Arts Chapbook Competition. He has been published in many web and print journals,such as Oregon East Southern Humanities Review, Touchstone, Windsor Review, Maverick, Parnassus Literary Review, Small Pond, Kansas Quarterly, Blue Unicorn, Exquisite Corpse,and many others. He also has an interest in digital photography. Samples of his photography can be found on
_http://www.pbase.com/bardofbyte_ (http://www.pbase.com/bardofbyte) photo album