Your Red Leather Gloves

On a bank paying-in slip I found
at the bottom of my pocket, I wrote:
Passed here on my way home,
and thought of us, each wandering

around the city centre
at the same time,
without knowing we were,
and without actually meeting.’

Then, after inspecting a new bump
on its front, I clicked open your car
with my copy of its key
and put the slip on the driver’s seat.

Your red leather gloves lay there,
as if your hands were still in them,
set off against the charcoal leather,
like a work of modern sculpture.

~ by bod1952 on August 7, 2008.