Six Poems

Bar Italia

I linger indoors, remembering us
braving the weather
on the other side of the glass.
I was standing at the bar when you arrived
and you signed for me to come outside
because you wanted to smoke.
We huddled together,
drinking coffee and talking,
so near I can almost touch us.

How long were we sitting there,
shivering and smoking like that?
And what were we talking about
so eagerly and anxiously
while our cigarettes went out?
We didn't mind having to light them
...