He would know her by the red hat
that she would wear
flopped casually
upon her golden hair.
He would watch through a thousand strangers
just to catch a sight
of a red hat bobbing
above steps breezy bright
and from a distance he would see
anticipation on her face
imagine her thigh
in a bow of black lace.
He would watch until their lips would meet
the red hat
buffeting his brow
and that would be that
until the morning hour
when hat and black lace
would lie
like flowers of fallen grace.
and he would watch her sleeping lashes
sweeping 'cross her cheeks
the only bow now
bright red and his to seek.
Emma
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