Would I have loved her just as
much,
Had her hair been less than
perfect,
that evening or had autumn
arrived
a day late?
Had the warm, halogen glow
cast an odd shadow
on her freckled face?
Would I have tickled her cat’s scruff,
Had it not purred and rolled
like my own or had I missed the black patch
on his left eye?
Had her bed smelled
of suds and dead roses, would I
have bid goodbye?
that night. Would she have
noticed me ‘walking-by’,
through the limpid reflections on
the pane,
had the smog set in early or had
I
lit a cigar?
Had the knot around my neck,
with the fresh mustard stain revealed
a deeper scar?
Would she have locked the door
behind
and left the welcome mat askew,
Had I crossed the dingy alley and
leapt over
the fence?
Had I turned the knob clockwise,
She perhaps would have answered
in morbid silence.
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  Some rights reserved by Daniel Dionne |
