Steve C. Stone
She's A Girl
She’ll turn up from time to time
There’ll be that feeling,
you will panic at midnight in a disused station.
From out of town,
out of league.
This is a reminder,
a love letter pinned to a kitchen door.
You’re nothing.
Irrelevant -
leaves blow across her path.
Keep on trying,
re-emerging each day at three,
keep on thinking some more.
Sit there,
scraping the twilight from your eyelids.
She’s a girl,
she can’t be tied.
Page(s) 50
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