Tension on Lime Street

He knew a cold night would follow
after shell rose to pink
washing the four corners of the sky.
The high white trails of the jets;
dwindling from the excitement of departure
to the isolation of winter,
were poor substitutes for the lack of a companion.

From the shoulder to shoulder movement
of the eager
bound for the suburbs,
He broke with tradition just a little;
claiming a table
close to the window
in the tired evening of a coffee house.
The waitress,
Straining the tether of a long day
Scribbled his order,
clashing the china
as she loaded the dumb waiter to breaking point.
Closing his eyes and dreaming,
he sipped the cappachino,
lips tingling with hot milk and spice

Later, the cold hit him hard!
Somewhere beyond Perch Rock,
In the open sea,
On the windís keen edge,
The moon had turned again.
And the river trembled
before it refilled with a dark savage tide.

As he strode up Lime Street
To meet Linda
his heartís nerve warned him
With heated frenzy
He teetered on the brink of running wildly
Into serious complications.

By DIck Hayes