the kiss

The Kiss
I had not seen her for many years just
bumped into her on a Christmas busy street.
We kissed hungrily, after all, forty years had
passed and her allure was as before.
The kiss reminded me of Rodin`s sculpture.
She lived in the Canal road number fifty five
we’re going there to make love, but I could not
find my car and she evaporated like mist over
woodland. Next day I looked up the town`s map,
the canal street was a parking lot now and houses
that stood here before torn down when the elders
with a female mayor, was cleaning up the sin that
so disturb the new moral we must live by now,
My car was parked there looking demure beside
a new Mercedes class A.
Forty years, a long time, but I remember the kiss