A Face in the Crowd

That evening as I stood before a crowd
With a walking stick tucked in my elbow
And a book of poems, reading aloud,
No one listening that day knew just how
Much I owed you — more than I could avow,
More than the world and just a little more,
For being there that day. Maybe just now
You weren’t aware of it either before
You read this; but then, how could you have? For
When I said that I wanted you to come,
When to get you there I had to implore
You that it was important, it was from
The hope that if we fell apart, before our love was no more,
One last glance from your still loving eyes I could catch — and adore.

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This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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