A thank you kiss

and a murmur slips among the tables

like the rumour of a distant time.

 

Portico shadows warm,

time and space contract with expectation,

exchange of views and smiles,

an infection of happiness.

 

Through arches as she leaves,

gold and silver glow,

and I, with her, in a self-made dream,

reflect, that with a pause

a touch of hands would have won applause.