Over a threshold,
making a little warning-bell tinkle;
she stepped into a cheese shop
on an errand for someone
she’s forgotten now.
He reached to the shelf as well
and they apologised
for brushing hands
and spoke a brief, tantalising mutter;
of this and that
and both were tempted to talk some more.
But they remembered duty
and the respectful constraints of caste;
so he doffed his hat and moved along
and she?
She delivered cheddar to her neighbour
and sits today; alone
and wondering;
what if I had been wanton,
just that once?
©Cindy Taylor 2008


4 Comments Add yours

  1. adeeyoyo says:

    Lovely, sad poem, Cin. Life is filled with ‘if only’s’ – if only I had – if only I had not – and we will never know the answers.

    1. theonlycin says:

      I guess ‘if only’ could drive a person dilly adee.

  2. slpmartin says:

    It is hard sometimes not to think about the “if’s” in ones life especially as one grows older…your poem is a fine example of how the thought process works. A fine poem to read over morning coffee…now I’ll “if and maybe” all day. 😉

    1. theonlycin says:

      Just sing Charles, just sing: Now if you load your rifle right
      And if you fix your bayonet so
      And if you kill that man, my friend,
      The one we call the foe,
      And if you do it often, lad,
      And if you do it right
      You’ll be a hero overnight
      You’ll save your country from her plight
      Remember God is always right
      If you survive to see the sight
      A friend now greeting foe…

      No you won’t believe in If anymore
      If’s an illusion …

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