Anja Konig

And the fog half
hanging trees still
beleaved some yellow there
left over: two ice
cream spoons in the sink
from where you were
lilies blue vase pink
one closed one
curled, a pair.

If on this train
you came unknown
down the aisle  
sideways, your bad eye sliding,
if you wore perhaps
your beautiful velvet jacket,
if I sat here and saw
you for the first time,
it would happen
it would happen
again.