a romantic interlude

A romantic interlude

At sunset, when the evening has a bluish taint
I think to myself I should have written more
how wonderful life can be.
She smells so good after her nightly bath
combs her hair looks, at her naked body
I think
to myself, I should have loved her more.
Life is like a short film. I remember the first time
I saw her, the café was full she beckoned to me to sit by her table.
I asked if she was Irish, this made her laugh
Can´t you see I´m not white?
This rose in a winter landscape.
We danced, loved, and traveled, time wasted away
and her burden was we´re childless
 a baby in her arm
was her dream, at the time, it was of little interest.
The unborn came between us.
I made no objection and sat her free.
She is married now, with three healthy children.
I still travel the world, my companion is the memory of her.