The two sat at the small café
The tourists snapped pictures
Everything was natural, in place
There was nothing left to save
Not even changed faces to each
A smile was sent, and a reply
Mirrored languages, one learned
Years had passed, and somehow
The information on the post card
Stayed the same, as did the memory
A man and his bread passed by on bike
With a ring he crossed the street
The silence was broken once again
The two stared at each other
Their reflections in the mirror smiled
At long last, the two had their moment
A flower grew between two hearts
The broadcast of true love traveled.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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