The cab suddenly turning up
twenty-seven minutes later
after my ten frantic calls
from the pavement outside your block,
your dressing-gowned silhouette
hovering on the balcony,
a halo of your wispy hair
blonde once more against the dawn.
My suitcases thrown in the boot,
doors slammed, engine revved, clutch released,
I forgot our goodbye wave,
checking messages and chanting
my flight number like a hex.
If only that cab had left me
waiting in vain. No way to know
I’d never see you again.
