five minutes of winter
people looked like collage
mounted on the surface of a life
that was unable to fit them,
I resulted in a more traditional approach
and sketched myself in with a pen
passing teachers were spilling their cups
of tea whilst gesturing the children
to move in line, they had so much
to teach with so little time,
an unassuming child gave me
a sideways glance, a woman passing
opened the silence,
her words spoken to resonate
“what happens if I’ve loved too late”
was this a rhetorical question?
surely she knows good things
come to those who wait
we took cover as the snow turned to rain
an undersized man shuffled my way,
his face bearing a scour
“what happens if we never meet again
it’s only been an hour, I miss her”
apologising for blurting out
such nonsense to me, ‘a stranger’
I insist he stops his whimper,
so much can happen in five minutes of winter
some come out for the amble, others
may never love again, me,
I was determined to avoid a collage
by sketching myself in with my pen
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