Cold walking

For just a moment, I saw the two bundled pedestrians
striding against the wind on that long snow swept strip of sidewalk
that traverse empty fields near the mall on this icy February day.

They were not a couple, exactly:
he was walking slightly ahead, his words angled back towards her;
she was walking as close as she could to him, listening.

They would like to be a couple, but were oblivious to
the signals, which were louder than traffic in that instant
as I drove past them.

Because even in that flickering instant I could see
that people who converse over a wind that heart-chilling cold
want to be a couple.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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