The lady and the Parasol (2)

 
I returned again in pious hope
to sit once more beneath the cypress shade
the table, parasol and empty chair,
the time of day about the same
my drink as red as yesterday;
my memory nagging at my mind.
Was it a dream my eyes dazzled
by the sun. Were those thighs as white
or were shadows from the cypress tree
playing with the light?
The wine more dark than yesterday
saw her first across the square
serene conscious of me, time
as of yesterday,I did not move
sipped my drink raised the glass
but did not smile, nor she
the day was hot but she was cool
Had she stepped from the temple
frieze to take the chair
same as yesterday? our contest
had begun, discrete and slow
the second act;an opera
whose end we could not know.